Saving Prince Arthur
by muchbeddled
Summary: Set post season. Robin and his former gang attempt to rescue Prince Arthur, Richard's nephew, from the newly crowned King John, who means to kill him. A former enemy stirs up trouble.
1. Chapter 1

Marian awoke in the middle of the night feeling chilly. She rolled over in her comfortable bed in Locksley Manor and reached for her husband.

Robin wasn't there. Not only that, but she could tell he hadn't been for some time. The bedclothes were cold.

Sitting up and blinking her eyes, she looked around the room. Moonlight flooded the chamber, illuminating the richly carved furnishings and exquisite hangings. The fire had burned down to embers, which accounted for her being chilly. She felt a pang of yearning for her husband's warm presence, and sighed as she pictured him downstairs, in his office, struggling over figures in his ledgers that wouldn't add up.

Rising from their bed, she ran down the stairs in bare feet. Except for an occasional hooting of an owl outdoors, everything was still. Their two tiny daughters, Ellen and Grace, along with their nurse Mattie, slept peacefully upstairs in their beds, while the rest of their servants were quietly sleeping in the servants' hall.

Quietly stepping through the doorway to Robin's office, she took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the candlelight, and the fire, burning its last dying flames, in the grate. Robin sat at his desk, raking tense fingers through tousled hair, staring resentfully at the huge tome spread open before him. A goblet of watered wine stood untouched on his desk, and his face wore a troubled expression.

"Let me see if I can help solve the problem," Marian offered.

Robin looked up at her, his smile brightening his face. "I could use a second pair of eyes right now. Especially such a beautiful pair," he added, winking.

"A sharp pair would serve you better."

"That all depends on what I'm being served."

"Grow up, Locksley," she teased. Standing behind him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her chin on his shoulder, to run her eyes up and down the columns of numbers. Where had he made his mistake?

For some unexplained reason, Robin always seemed to transpose numbers in his head. 37 would become 73...42 would be 24. She didn't know why he did it...she only knew he couldn't seem to help it, and it caused him endless frustration when he tried to tally the figures in his ledgers. To him, this had always been the worst part of holding his lands and titles. But he worked tirelessly at his tedious task, and never complained of doing his duty.

There it was! "There, Robin," she said, pointing to a number near the bottom of the page. "You've given the Jerrald familty 21 children, when they really have a dozen, which is quite enough. And you added 62 head of cattle here, when it should be 26. See? Try to add it now."

He did, amazed at how quickly she had uncovered his mistakes. He reached and pulled her onto his lap. "How did you do that?" he asked.

"I know you," she replied simply.

"Well, thanks to you, that's the paperwork done," he said, closing the heavy book with relief.

They smiled, then began to kiss, softly at first, but soon their kiss deepened, as they felt themselves swept away again.

They had been married for five years, and were even more deeply in love and devoted to each other than ever, if that were possible.

"Come back to bed," Marian suggested, her fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck.

"Is that an invitation, or an order?" Robin asked, flashing her his devilish grin. "Either way, I'm happy to oblige." He blew out the candles and offered her the goblet that he hadn't drunk from yet.

She enjoyed a sip of the diluted wine, then handed it to him, and they passed the cup back and forth, slowly draining its contents. Snuggling closer on his lap, she rested her head against his shoulder, listening to his heart beating against the silence of the still October night. His arms tightened around her, but neither made any move to go. It was lovely just to take their time and enjoy this moment first.

At last, Robin lifted her chin and began to deliberately kiss her mouth, sending thrilling waves of warmth cascading through her. But when he slid an icy hand down her gown, she jumped.

"Your hands are freezing!" she objected.

"Sorry," he chuckled. "Can you think of a better way to warm them?"

"For you, maybe. But we really must get some sleep, Robin. We need to be presentable tomorrow."

"When have we not been presentable, I should like to know?" He was still grinning, and he wasn't ready to give up yet. "I was thinking, we should go upstairs, and I could rekindle the fire...and maybe the one in the grate as well."

"You're very clever. But stop doing that...it's distracting. I want to make a good impression on the Prince and Princess. They're your cousins, after all. And for once, we can't be late."

It was true. 15-year-old Prince Arthur of Brittany and his sister, 18-year-old Eleanor, "the Fair Maid of Brittany," were visiting Nottinghamshire, and were housed in Nottingham Castle. They were the children of Geoffrey Plantagenet, deceased brother to King Richard and Prince John, and his wife, Constance of Brittany. Constance's mother, Margaret of Huntington, was the sister of Robin's father. Robin hadn't seen them since he had attended the infant Prince Arthur's christening, just before he left to fight in the Crusades.

Prince Arthur was a very important personage in the realm. Before King Richard had departed on his Crusade, he stipulated that, having no legitimate heir of his own, his nephew Arthur should succeed him to the throne. This rankled Prince John, who should have stood next in line to inherit the kingdom. And even though Richard had now been married to Queen Berengaria for many years, he still had no legitimate heir, and he still favored Arthur over his treacherous and unstable brother John, or his bastard son, Philip.

But Richard was relatively young and healthy, and was expected to live for many more years. It seemed that if Saladin's fiercest warriors had failed to kill him, then nothing else under Heaven or Earth could.

"Very well, my love, off to bed. But you realize, of course, this only helps my cause."

"Get a fire going in the grate, and then we'll see," she said, her eyes promising to fulfill his wishes.

Halfway up the stairs, they were stopped by a child's scream. Robin's eyes met Marian's for a split second. "Ellen," he said, bolting the rest of the way up the steps, with Marian at his heels.

Damn Gisbourne! Even dead, that bastard continued to torment Robin's family! Three-year-old Ellen, seemingly happy and confident during the day, was tortured in her sleep by nightmares remembering Guy of Gisbourne kidnapping her and locking her in a chest. Robin knew what it was to be tormented by nightmares, and he'd do anything to stop them from haunting his precious little girl's dreams.

Running into the girls' room, Robin saw the nurse, Mattie, standing over Ellen's bed, helplessly wringing her hands over the child's terror. One-year-old Grace was awake and crying, as well.

Gathering Ellen in his arms, he pulled her from the bed and carried her as he paced the floor of her room. Marian picked up Grace, and attempted to calm her cries.

"Daddy!" Ellen screamed.

"I'm here, Boo," he said.

"The black man, Daddy! The black man's got me!"

"I've got you, Ellie," Robin said.

"There is no more 'Black Man,' " Marian said, over the cries of her baby. "He can never hurt you again, Precious."

"Master, this is the second time this week," Mattie complained. Marian shot the nurse a withering look. They knew how many times it was.

The girls' cries eventually calmed as their parents comforted them.

"Daddy, Gracie and I want to sleep in your bed," Ellen said.

Robin and Marian's eyes met, indicating mutual approval to the suggestion.

"Come on, then," he said, as if leading the way to a party. He was stopped by the nurse's objections.

"If I may be so bold, Master...My Lady...is that wise? The children will come to expect it, and throw a fit if they're made to sleep in their own beds." Especially that Grace, she was thinking.

"Our children do not 'throw fits,' " Marian said proudly.

"And when they do, we will handle it," Robin smiled. "Goodnight, Mattie. Try and get some rest."

Placing the girls in the middle of their bed, they climbed in on either side of them, surrounding them like a warm cocoon. Ellen rolled onto her side and fell back to sleep, but Grace thought it was time to play. When Robin rose to put more wood on the fire, she took his spot in bed and kicked her feet as hard as she could, laughing aloud.

"Settle down, Apple Blossom," Robin said, highly amused by his daughter's antics.

"Come here, Gracie," Marian cooed. She adored her strong willed little baby whom others found so difficult.

Robin climbed back into bed, and held Grace high above his head in outstretched arms, as she kicked her cubby legs and squealed in delight.

"More! More!" she cried.

"Give her here," Marian insisted. "You're as bad as she is, isn't he, darling?"

Marian set her baby on her belly beside her, and lulled her to sleep by rubbing gentle circles on her back. Smiling sleepily across from each other, with their two girls sleeping peacefully between them, Lord and Lady Locksley experienced another moment of Heaven.

...

In another even more opulent bed, in Nottingham Castle, Prince John was drinking wine with his latest mistress beside him.

"You couldn't be more right, my dear," he whined. "Why are you the only one who appreciates me? The only one who understands my Destiny?"

"Maybe, Sire, it's because I know you better than most."

"Yes...you are fortunate in that regard. But my family knows me! My father, the late King, always wanted me to rule, you know that, don't you? At least he did until he was dying and named Richard his heir. Richard! Ha! How unfit is he? Can't even sire a son! Only one, and a bastard! Whereas, I might not have any heirs off my harpy of a wife, but I have dozens of bastards, do I not?"

"Dozens, Sire. You are...quite magnificent."

"Yes...I am, aren't I? But tell me again of your plan, my dear."

She paused, for effect. "An accident...an archer meaning to shoot a poacher...mistakenly shoots...someone else."

"I like it! Why has no one thought of it before? So simple, yet so fulfilling!"

"The plan is already in place, My King."

"Excellent! And then, there will only be Prince Arthur to dispose of. How exciting! Yes, I'm so pleased we met again, Isabella, my pet."

"As am I, Sire...as am I."

Isabella of Gisbourne smiled her most dazzling smile at her lover, Prince John of England.


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm not saying anything. I'm not saying anything."

Much, Lord of Bonchurch, was scolding a smiling Robin of Locksley in the Great Hall of Nottingham Castle.

"What, Much?" Robin asked, pleased to be attending such a splendid celebration with his boyhood friend. He grabbed two goblets of wine as a servant passed with a tray laden with cups, handing one to Marian and the other to Much.

Much's face lit up in pleasure, but soon resumed its cranky aspect.

"Oh, no, you can't ply me with wine and get out of this," Much scolded.

"What has he done now, Much?" Marian asked, resigned to hear Much rant.

Much looked triumphant. "Do you know what time Eve and I arrived, Robin? Do you? We were here by a quarter after three! That's right! A quarter after three! For a four o'clock reception! What do you think of that?"

Before Robin could answer, Much continued.

"And what time did you arrive, oi? What time?"

"Four o'clock?" Robin ventured.

"A quarter after four!" Much gloated.

"That's not so very late," Marian offered, bored by Much's ridiculous conversation.

"It was all Marian's fault," Robin joked. "She did insist on being beautiful."

Much smiled at her. "You do look beautiful, Marian," he said, pleasantly.

"Thank you, Lord Bonchurch." It was true. She looked beautiful, attired in the Huntington green and gold. Robin, too, wore his colors, as was customary on such an occasion. "And you look very nice, as well."

Much was garbed in a floor length crimson robe, which almost hid his expanding girth.

"We know whose fault it was," Much continued, after the pleasantries were finished. When no one took the bait, he spoke up again.

"It was your manservant, Thomas' fault, wasn't it, Robin? I tell you, he's sorely lacking! He didn't have you ready on time, now, did he?"

At that moment, Eve approached. She was expecting another child, due to arrive in another four month's time. "They're coming," she said, nervously. She had never met actual royalty before, and even though she was brave and self possessed, this was rather daunting. Much held her arm gently, and they smiled at each other, their wide blue eyes dancing with excitement.

Marian wouldn't admit it, but she was rather nervous herself. Not because Prince Arthur and Princess Eleanor were royalty, but because they were Robin's cousins. She desired to make a good impression on them, and make her husband proud.

"You see, Much," Robin grinned, "Marian and I were right on time."

"Please!" was all that was heard, before trumpets announced the arrival of the Prince and Princess of Brittany.

Prince Arthur and his lovely sister entered with Sheriff Wilfred, and took their places on a raised dais at the end of the Hall. The Prince was an average sized youth, good looking with tawny gold hair like his uncle Richard's, and blue eyes framed in light lashes. His sister Eleanor was very fair and dainty. Her pale skin was almost translucent, her blond hair long and wavy, and her expression ethereal.

"She looks like a star, or an angel," Marian whispered. Robin squeezed his wife's hand. In his estimation, no other woman could touch Marian's beauty.

As the highest peer in the shire, Robin was presented to the royal guests first. He bowed while Marian dropped a graceful curtsey. The Prince showed his pleasure in meeting them.

"Cousin," he greeted courteously. "It is good to meet you at last."

"We've met before, Your Highness, though I understand why you have no memory of it. I was present at your christening."

"Ah, yes, when I was given my most esteemed name. Such a name can be both a blessing and a curse. You, of all people, should understand what it is to bear a legendary name, isn't that right, Robin Hood?"

Robin smiled. He was more than proud of his legendary status, and amazed at all the ballads and tales beginning to circulate throughout England, telling of the bold Robin Hood and his merry band of outlaws. It was an honor to have his royal cousin allude to it.

"Indeed, Your Highness. And now, may I present my lady wife? This is Lady Marian of Locksley," he said, his gaze and voice revealing his love and admiration for her.

"It is an honor to meet you," Marian said.

"The honor is mine," the Prince said, awed by the potent beauty of Lady Locksley.

"We look forward to paying a visit to your estates," Princess Eleanor added, in a soft voice that matched her delicate appearance.

Suddenly, there was a loud commotion, as Prince John and his "lady" entered the Hall. "Good people of Nottingham," the Prince called down from the top of the stairs, "I accept your love and adoration! I have come to shine my presence upon you again!"

"What's he doing here?" Much asked an angry faced Robin.

"More to the point," Robin corrected, "what's she?"

The moment she entered the Hall, Isabella had locked eyes on Robin. They hadn't seen each other for five years, yet it felt like only yesterday. She threw him a triumphant sneer, making her resemblance to her dead brother even more pronounced than usual, then elegantly descended the staircase, attached to Prince John's arm. The pair of them took position on the dais.

"Uncle!" Prince Arthur exclaimed in alarm. "I had no idea you were in Nottingham."

"Indeed. Well, here's half a crown. Buy yourself a clue." The Prince laughed uproariously at his own humor. His laughter was joined by silvery peals coming from Isabella's lovely throat.

"Locksley! How delightful to see you again!" Prince John's voice dripped with sarcasm. "I thought I smelled your forest stench! You know, my dear," he said, turning to Isabella, "you can take the outlaw out of the forest, and even shine him up a bit, but you can't completely wash the stench away. It lingers, like a festering sore that refuses to heel."

"Oh, Sire, you do have a way with words!" Isabella gushed.

"And with actions, too, as I proved to you in bed last night!"

The young Prince and Princess of Brittany blushed. Others in the Hall shifted about uncomfortably, and murmured words of dissent.

"But what else have we here?" Prince John continued. "No! It cannot be! Pudgy? Look, everyone! It's my dog, Pudgy! Come, boy, come!" The Prince snapped his fingers and whistled for Much, who glanced about uncomfortably. Prince John had once captured him and made him his "dog," dressing him up in a jester costume and leading him about on a leash. "You will come when I command!" Prince John shouted, his amused tone replaced by one of rage.

Much took a hesitant step forward, but was stopped by Robin gripping his arm.

"You have no right, Prince John," Robin gritted through clenched teeth. "I, for one, will not tolerate your abuse of your nobles."

"No right? No right? I have every right! And since when have you championed nobles? I thought it was your practice to rob them! Oh, now I see! Now that you are one again, they're worthy of your esteem. Still champion peasants, too, Clodhopper, or are you too good for them now that you're Huntington again?"

"I champion whomever needs my assistance from the foul deeds of a deranged tyrant."

There was a hush throughout the chambers.

"Lock him in the dungeon," Prince John commanded at last. Two guards rushed forward and held Robin's arms.

Sheriff Wilfred took a deep breath. "Your Highness, on what charge?"

"Did you not hear him abuse me?" Prince John was so furious, he began to foam at the mouth. "Lock him in the dungeon, I say! He is no stranger there! He has roomed there many times before, haven't you, Robin Hood?" The Prince's tone meant to mock and belittle the name.

Marian stepped forward bravely. "Your Highness," she appealed to Prince Arthur, "you were witness to what just occurred. My husband's words were rash, but they were meant to defend a fellow peer who was about to be humiliated most unjustly. Is there nothing you can do?"

"Ah! Miriam!" Prince John exclaimed, still furious. "I thought that was you! Still luscious as ever, I see! So, how greatly do you want Locksley freed, my dear, eh? How much are you willing to pay me?" He leered at her lustfully.

"You keep my lady wife out of this," Robin commanded in a cold voice.

"Why, Locksley? She's the one who threw herself into the fray, making her fair game, if you ask me."

"Since when have you ever played by the rules, Prince John?"

"Since when have you?" Prince John pushed his face right up against Robin's. After a moment, the Prince pulled back, laughing merrily. "Let him go! What? Did you think I was serious? Of course not! 'Twas only sport, for God's sake. Seriously, you people have no sense of humor! You found me amusing, didn't you, my dear?" he asked Isabella.

"Alas, I have no more laughter, Sire. Your exquisite humor has quite spent me."

"Just as my exquisite manhood spent you last night, am I not correct, my lovely one?"

"Oh, yes, Sire! But, perhaps, we should not speak of such things in public. The other ladies will be jealous and resent me so."

"I do believe you have a point, my dear. Come, let us leave these northern nobles to pay homage to my niece and nephew. How effective you were, Arthur, in handling that tricky situation! Such command! Such leadership! Oh, I am impressed! Sheriff Wilfred, I am suddenly reminded of your dearly departed predecessor. As he would say, 'A clue...no!' "

Prince John angrily took Isabella's arm, and strode from the Hall, leaving the company unsettled and dismayed.

The confused guards released Robin, and he stared after Prince John, anger flashing from his eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

"I suppose you're thankful you'll be sleeping in your own bed tonight, rather than the dungeon. For awhile, I thought I might have to come rescue you again. Do you remember the time I saved you before?"

Isabella's cool, detached voice reached Robin from the darkness outside the castle. The hour was approaching midnight, and Robin had gone to the stables after the banquet to see whether his horses were ready for his and Marian's return journey home to Locksley.

Hers was the last voice he wanted to hear, ever, and he turned his face away and grimaced into the darkness.

"Your lover showed me an unexpected mercy," he replied bitterly. "You must be softening him. Or is it because he holds no real power, and knows he would be punished for his crime, once the King learned of his treachery?"

"It can't be your first explanation, or I'm losing my touch. You yourself know I have quite the opposite effect than 'softening' a man. And trust, me, Robin, I have not lost my touch."

Robin shook his head and laughed in disgust. "Still as galling as ever, I see. Goodnight, Isabella," he said, moving away.

She ran and caught up with him, grabbing his arm. "Wait!" she begged.

He turned and looked down at her. At thirty-five, she had reached the pinnacle of her beauty, and she knew she looked magnificent and intoxicating in the deep burgundy colored gown hugging her supple body. Jewels glittered all over her person, but their gleam was nothing compared to that issuing from her eyes, as she stared at the man she wanted.

He waited impatiently.

"Can't we be friends at least?" she begged.

"Friends?" he asked, in a disbelieving tone.

"Yes. So much has happened since we last met! I've had time to think, and I must tell you, Robin, how sorry I am for the trouble I caused you in the past! Please…please forgive me! It was all done out of confusion, and…I can't call it 'love,' but would you accept 'desire'?"

She appeared to be sincere. "I'll accept that," he said coldly. He still had no wish to spend time with her. "Goodnight," he said again.

"Robin?" Marian's voice reached them from the darkness. "Robin? Where are you?"

"Here we are!" Isabella called.

Robin threw back his head. Why was this happening? "I'm here, Marian," he said.

Marian lifted her eyebrows when she found her husband alone with Isabella of Gisbourne. She looked at Robin questioningly.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

"Are you?" It was an accusation.

"Lady Locksley," Isabella interrupted, "forgive me for having cornered your husband. I only wanted to apologize to him, but it seems I owe you an apology as well."

"You can apologize until next summer, but it won't change the lies you told us or the trouble you caused. We want nothing more to do with you." Marian took Robin's proffered arm and began to move away, but stopped and returned, having more to say. "The ones you ought to apologize to are Their Royal Highnesses. How embarrassing for them to listen to that nasty bedroom innuendo, coming from their married uncle! That poor innocent girl! How do you think she must have felt?"

"How do you think I felt, discussed as if I were a whore, before the entire shire and the royal guests? Believe me, if I am due a penance, I am paying dearly for my sins!"

Isabella had always been an expert at portraying herself a victim. Robin was moved to compassion, and felt ashamed of himself for his scorn of her, but Marian only scoffed.

"If you are due a penance? If? I wonder what your dead husband would have to say about that? Everyone knows you poisoned him! We heard about it last year, and people are still talking!"

"Let's go, Marian," Robin said firmly, not wishing for Marian to engage in any type of discussion with Isabella, let alone a debate which could last for hours and turn ugly immediately. They began to walk away, but were stopped by Isabella's words again.

"I know what people are saying, but they are wrong. My husband died of natural causes, thanks be to God! I am free at last from his reign of terror and torture! You know nothing of what I've had to suffer, all my life! You, growing up with a loving father...married now to a chivalrous man who adores you! You cannot understand my pain! So, before you come forward with your unfounded accusations, perhaps you ought to imagine what it is like living my life."

"Everything is a choice," Marian said coldly. "Everything we do."

"No! Not when you're a thirteen-year-old girl who knows nothing of love, never having been given it! Not when your own brother, who is supposed to be your protector, sells you to an even worse man, for a price! What choice was I given, I ask you?"

Marian paused for a moment, not having a ready answer. "You can choose how you behave now. What you do to help, rather than hurt others. You can choose to think of something bigger and better than your own ambitions and desires and comforts."

"You cannot understand what I am forced to endure! Just because I am beautiful, men think they can use me for their wicked pleasure! The Prince of the Realm desires me in his bed...how can I refuse him? If I were to do so, he would make me pay! Oh, how he would make me suffer!"

Robin's face betrayed his anger toward Prince John. All the same, Marian was unprepared for his next words.

"Let us help you," he said. "We can secure the King's protection over you. In the meantime, come home with us to Locksley. You'll be safe there, I assure you."

Marian stared at Robin, her eyes and mouth wide open in disbelief, while Isabella bit her tongue to force back a smile from betraying her amusement. Men were so easy!


	4. Chapter 4

Constance, the petite perky blond who worked for Allan a Dale at The Trip to Jerusalem Inn, flounced up the tavern's stairs and rapped on Allan's open door.

"Someone downstairs to see you."

"Tell him to come back at a decent hour," Allan said.

It was nine o'clock in the morning. Allan was up, but he was counting his profits from last night and didn't wish to be disturbed by some traveling peddlar, or a complaining customer, or a lovesick boy, who mistook the attentions from one of his tavern girls for something real.

"'Tain't a gent…. It's a lady," Constance said meaningfully.

Uh oh, Allan thought. He cast his mind back, but couldn't recall anything especially untoward he had done lately with the fairer sex.

"When you say, 'Lady,' do you mean, 'Lady?' Or do you just mean-"

"I mean Lady Locksley!" Constance sprung the surprise on him, but was disappointed in his face. His eyes didn't light up with a naughty glint, nor did he look guilty. So, it was just a friendly visit, after all. Too bad. Would have been great gossip.

"Now what's she want?" Allan wondered, putting aside his money.

Not that he wouldn't mind seeing Marian. They were old friends, but he didn't like to think of her presence here starting ugly gossip about her. The Trip was a fine tavern, but not the sort of place a lady, especially one of her station, would visit.

"What are you doin', showin' your face in here?" he asked, smiling at her nevertheless.

"What? Can't I visit my friends in their homes?"

"Since it's early yet, I suppose you'll be alright. But you better be gone before ten, you hear?"

"I'll wear my hood, like a respectable spy," she teased.

He winced slightly.

"Oh. Sorry," she apologized. She hadn't meant anything insulting. "It's just, I've been in here once before, and I was spying then," she explained.

"I can take it. What do you want, Marian?"

She sat on a bench and let out a tremendous sigh. "My husband is the biggest fool in all of Christendom," she complained.

"I thought you married Robin, not Much."

She flashed her eyes at him. "Alright, alright," he continued. "So, what did that snake Isabella say to make him want to save her this time?"

"However did you guess?"

"Don't worry, Marian...Robin would never cheat on you."

"Of course he wouldn't. It's just...why can't he see through her? Robin's no idiot! And she's so transparently obvious! I'll never understand it!"

Allan looked down, trying to stifle a chuckle.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothin'. It's just...not bein' funny, but...you and Robin and the Gisbournes."

She shot him an inquiring look, her eyebrows raised as she waited for clarification.

"First it was you and Giz. Robin saw straight through him, but you couldn't. Kept insisting he could be redeemed, until it was too late. Now, it's Robin and Isabella. She's just as nasty as her brother, though in different ways. You can see how it is, but Robin falls for her damsel in distress act every time. Am I right?"

"I suppose there might be a few similarities. But how did you know she was back? You weren't at the Castle yesterday."

"Yeah, well, you forget, all the town gossip comes through here first. I heard all about her from Ralph and George last night. They came here straight from guard duty, and entertained everybody with Prince John's speeches about his virility. And when they described the woman he was with, I knew right away it must be Izzy."

They looked up as the door to the Trip creaked opened, squinting their eyes into the pale beam of sunlight accompaning the guest.

Allan was surprised. What was going on today? Didn't anybody know he didn't want to see anyone before noon?

"Marian?" Robin's voice was yearning, and soft as a summer breeze.

"Robin!" She jumped up, all awestruck and eager.

Allan shook his head. Aw, great. He'd heard how choked up her voice was. Apparently, they were going to use his place of business to pour out their affection for one another after last night's argument. Lovely.

It was their way, Allan knew. They'd argue, separate briefly, then reunite, all lovey dovey and emotional. Ah, well, it made them happy, he supposed. But they'd better hightail it out of here soon. Allan had a business to run. He greeted Robin and excused himself, to go upstairs and finish counting his money.

"How did you find me?" Marian asked, secure once more in her husband's strong and loving arms.

"I saw Llamrei tied to the post outside."

"Oh. But I mean, what are you doing in Nottingham?"

"Besides looking for you?" He smiled adoringly at her. "I was supposed to breakfast with Eleanor and Arthur, but I'm guessing I'll be late now."

"Robin! Go! You can't keep Royalty waiting!"

"You come, too."

"I can't just show up!" she laughed.

"You're invited." He expressed it as though it was obvious.

"Robin! Why didn't you tell me? I can't go, dressed like this!"

"Why not? You look gorgeous." His kiss convinced her. And so, together they made their way to the castle.

Along the way, Robin finally brought up the subject of Isabella. "I'm sorry, My Love, about last night. I obviously wasn't thinking."

"No, you were not."

"She clearly can't stay with us. But, we do need to get her out of there. So, I was thinking, we could get her out this morning, before Prince John rises, and take her to Kirklees, if she's willing to go. She'll be safe there."

Marian couldn't help laughing. "Kirklees? Kirklees Abbey? Oh, yes, Robin...I think we should definitely offer to take her there. I'm sure she'll be so pleased at your suggestion."

She couldn't wait to see the expression on Isabella's face.


	5. Chapter 5

Marian barely touched the delicious breakfast set before her. She was far too interested to eat, when she could instead observe Prince Arthur and Princess Eleanor at such close range.

Robin and she were breaking their fast in a small private chamber in Nottingham Castle. As usual, Robin was perfectly at ease, his natural charm helping the young Prince and Princess relax and enjoy themselves.

"It's true," Eleanor was saying, responding to a question Robin had asked. "I was part of the ransom deal which freed our Uncle Richard from captivity in Germany five years ago. I was to marry Leopold of Austria's heir. But, surprisingly, while I was enroute to marry him, we received word that he had just died! So, I returned to Brittany, still a maid."

"And happy to be one," Arthur added. "She didn't wish to marry him, did you?"

"No. But it was a better match than being part of the peace negotiations with Saladin! I prayed nightly not to have to wed Saladin's brother, Saphadin, as had been planned for me earlier. Thankfully, Uncle Richard could not go through with that barter, yet he still achieved peace."

Marian looked sympathetically at the lovely young princess. How awful to be considered property, and be married off to the highest bidder! It was the fate of most ladies of noble birth. She remembered Isabella's words of last night, and cringed. Even she had been sold into marriage. Still, Marian refused to have any sympathy for her.

"How are you finding Nottinghamshire?" Marian asked. Oh, what an insipid question! They must have had to answer that a thousand times already! Why had she asked it? She felt better when she saw Robin smile and throw her a wink.

"Chilly," the Prince answered. "We're unused to such a chilly climate."

Marian stuck up for her home. "It's not usually this cold this early. October's often lovely, isn't it, Robin?"

"As my wife says, it can be lovely. In fact, I believe the cold snap is passing. Would you care to ride with us to Locksley today? We'd love you to meet our girls."

"Do you know what we really want to see?" the Prince asked, excitedly. "We want to ride through Sherwood Forest! Tales of your adventures as Robin Hood have reached Brittany, and though the stories aren't as popular yet as the legends of King Arthur, they are fast gaining ground."

Robin looked extremely pleased.

"Do you ever miss those days?" Arthur asked.

Robin and Marian looked somberly at each other. "Never!" he said. "The stories make it sound as if we were having a ball living in the forest, but no…never. We made the best of a terrible situation, and tried to ease people's suffering as much as we could. But, no. Life is wonderful today." He smiled adoringly at his wife.

Arthur and Eleanor were sadly disappointed. 'Robin Hood' was an exciting, romantic legend to them…nothing more. They couldn't understand the hunger, the danger, the loneliness, the deprevation, the pain of those days under Vaisey's evil regime.

They finished their meal, and the ewewer held the pitcher for them to dip their fingers, then provided napkins to wipe them dry.

Suddenly, bells all over the castle and the town began to toll.

The Prince and Princess were unconcerned. This might just be the custom in Nottingham, for all they knew. But Robin and Marian looked at each other in confusion, as did the attending servants.

"What's happening?" Marian asked.

At that moment, the door pushed open, and Sheriff Wilfred entered, his face betraying shock and alarm. He got down on one knee before Prince Arthur and announced, "The King is dead! Long live the King!"

...

"Long live me! Long live me! Long live me!"

Prince John was so excited, he practically skipped down the castle corridor, hurrying toward the Great Hall. Isabella needed to run to keep up with him. Just before they burst into the room, she whispered in his ear, "We did it, my King! Our plan succeeded! The slow working poison on the arrow guaranteed success!" They celebrated with a mutual fit of giggles, then shifted into mourning mode, as they charged into the chamber.

"Why?" Prince John cried melodramatically. "Why did he have to die so young? In the prime of his life? Without an heir, save me, of course! Oh, why, why, why?" He collapsed in a fit of tears.

Robin and Marian watched the Prince's act with scorn. Robin was pale and silent. The King had been his hero for years, and almost like an older brother to him. Marian knew he was grieving, and she held his hand in hers. It was all she could do, but it meant a lot. Her eyes opened wide in surprise when she noticed Isabella toss her a triumphant sneer.

"Sire," Sheriff Wilfred said, "there is some dispute regarding your ascension to the throne. Didn't the late King name Prince Arthur his heir?"

"As a joke, perhaps," John scowled. "But not lately. He clearly wanted me to rule. Reports from his deathbed unequivocably state that he named me, his little brother, to wear the Crown."

"John shall reign," came a commanding female voice, and all present bowed down before Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine, who had entered the Hall unnoticed.

"Mumsie!" Prince John cried, running and throwing himself into her arms.

"Grow up, John," she commanded. "You are King, now. You must begin to act like one."

She regally circled the room, wearing her grief proudly. When she noticed Robin's stricken face, she nearly lost her composure. "Come, Robin," she invited. "We must talk."

Still holding Marian's hand, Robin followed the Queen Mother into a private room.

"He died in my arms," she told them.

"How, Your Majesty?" Robin asked, his voice hollow.

"An accident. We were staying in the Castle of Chalus-Chabrol, in Limousin, and Richard was out walking. An archer mistakenly shot him in the left shoulder, and my son tried to pull the arrow out himself. It broke off, leaving much of it embedded in his flesh. By the time a surgeon was sent for, the damage had already been done. A fever...infection... My glorious son, who faced thousands of Saladin's soldiers, died from infection from a misshot arrow!"

Robin's mind returned to the wound in the same shoulder Richard had suffered from Vaisey's arrow, while in the Holy Land, when Guy of Gisbourne had tried to murder Marian. "Are you certain it was an accident?" he asked.

"What else? The arrow was shot by a boy. It was an accident," she repeated firmly. "He claimed he thought Richard was a poacher."

"What will happen to the boy?" Marian asked.

"He was caught, and due to die. But Richard had him brought to him, and pardoned him. 'Live on,' he told him, 'and by my bounty, behold the light of day.' "

They remained silent for a time, seeming to hear the very voice of the late King speak those words of mercy. Marian could see how very moved her husband was. He tried to speak, but remained silent.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty," she spoke up at last, "is Prince John really to rule?"

"He is my son. Arthur is but my grandson," the Queen Mother replied simply.

"But you and King Richard raised Prince Arthur," Marian argued boldly. "Surely, he is better suited to be our King."

"My wife speaks truth," Robin agreed. Marian's bravery in speaking up had emboldened him, helping to conquer his grief. "Your Majesty, Prince John must not be allowed to wield power. It will spell tragedy for England."

"Have you forgotten what a schemer my son Geoffrey was? While he lived, he was nothing but trouble. Who's to say that his son Arthur is not like his father? No," the Queen stated firmly, "John will reign."

...

Robin continued holding onto Marian's hand, feeling as if he might drown if he let it go. They were walking across the castle courtyard, awaiting their horses to be brought to them, so they could return home to Locksley.

"What a tragic day!" Isabella's voice portrayed the opposite of her words, and she couldn't contain the sparkle in her eyes. She was ecstatic! She had succeeded where her brother had failed! Her lover was to be King, all because of her plan! Surely, if she continued to be smart, she would hold power second to no other woman in the land!

Robin's grief had made him forget all about his plan to rescue her, but seeing her now reminded him. Although he didn't have the heart for it, he summoned his energy to do what he considered to be the right thing.

"My lady," he began.

"No need for such formality," she interrupted. "You make me laugh, Robin! Really! Surely after all the hot burning kisses we've shared, let alone the single time we coupled, you should feel comfortable to call me by my Christian name."

"You really have no shame at all, do you?" Marian asked.

"I am not ashamed of anything I've ever done. I wanted to lie with your husband, and I did. I would have enjoyed it more if he hadn't rushed through it the way he did, but I can't blame him for his desire, now, can I? And by the way, I'd like to lie with again, and perhaps I will. I make no secret of that fact."

"Shut up. It's ancient history, and you are pathetic to cling to something so meaningless." Marian's cheeks were flaming.

"If it was so meaningless, then why does it upset you so?" Isabella asked.

"Stop it, Isabella," Robin ordered. "You really are low, aren't you? Marian and I were planning to help you flee Prince John, and take you to Kirklees Abbey, but I doubt you want our help. What was that last night? An act?"

"Kirklees Abbey?" she asked, exploding into peals of laughter. Now that John would be King, she didn't need to dissemble ever again.

"You really thought to take me to an Abbey? Why? So I could become a nun?" She began laughing so hard, she couldn't speak. "Oh, Robin, you're so easily duped! You're absolutely adorable, did you know that? Kirklees Abbey, indeed! Just wait until I tell John! Oh, and by the way, Lady Locksley, I'm commanding you to serve as my attendant at the King's Coronation. Better hurry home and pack your finest gowns, such as they are. Perhaps you'll learn some style, if you pay attention to the other lady's gowns while in London, instead of spending your time admiring their horses."

"Your insults mean nothing, Isabella," Robin spat. "Marian was lovelier clad in rags while living in the forest than you have ever been, dressed in the most elegant finery. And she will NOT attend you, ever."

"Oh, she will attend me, and like it. You have no idea how much power I am about to hold, Robin, my love. So, better start smiling and enjoying it. Fairwell, Locksleys. The world is new! And John and I are about to begin our brand new adventure! Come along with us for the ride, or be left behind. Everything is a choice, as your darling Marian said last night."

...

**(3 cheers for my anonymous reviewer, who caught the meaning behind the name of Marian's horse in Chapter 4! I'm impressed!)**


	6. Chapter 6

"Ellie, would you like to ride with Daddy for awhile? It will help cheer him. And sing him your prettiest song. Would you do that for me, Precious?"

Marian had finally gotten Grace to succumb to sleep in the carriage, as Robin's family and a handful of servants traveled southward. They were on their way to London to attend both King Richard's state funeral and the Coronation of King John. Much, his manservant Michael, and his eldest son Robin, whom Much called "Tweeks," also accompanied them. No one was certain why Much called him "Tweeks," but Robin suspected it had something to do with the way the boy liked to grab and pinch his father's belly. Eve, being with child again, had chosen to remain at Bonchurch with the rest of their children.

The carriage stopped, to allow Marian and Ellen to descend, leaving Grace to nap alone with her nurse Mattie.

"Daddy, Mama says I may ride with you now," Ellen beamed.

Robin smiled at Marian gratefully, as he reached down to lift their daughter onto his saddle. Placing her before him, he undid his belt, so that he could fasten it around both their waists, buckling her to him. Marian climbed onto her own horse, thankful to be riding in the fresh air again, and for Robin's smile.

"Why must we go so slow, Daddy?" Ellen asked.

"We need to go slowly so we don't jostle Gracie. You don't want your sister shaken like a rattle, do you?"

"But Gracie's not riding with us."

"We need to stay together, Boo." Robin knew better than anyone how plagued the route was with thieves. He was fully armed with his bow, his sword, and he wore his quiver filled with arrows on his back. Much was ready with his sword and shield, and even Tweeks carried a toy wooden sword, which he swung about wildy while riding behind his father, accidentally hitting him from time to time.

"Ow!" Much cried for the twentieth time.

"Sorry," said Tweeks.

"Sing for us, Ellie," Marian suggested. She knew how much Robin liked to hear their daughter's sweet piping voice.

"Now, Marian," Much corrected, "not five miles ago, Robin stopped me from singing. Didn't you hear him insist? 'No song,' he said. And he meant it, Marian. Didn't you, Robin? 'No song.' Maybe you couldn't hear…your baby was wailing so loudly."

"Grace does not wail."

"Please! Her cries were as loud as Little John's snores!"

"Gracie was being bad, Mama," Ellen agreed.

"Nonsense! She just didn't want to miss the fun, that's all. How would you like to have to sleep in that stuffy carriage, when you could be riding out here on such a lovely day? Isn't this more fun than taking a nap, Ellie? Now, ask Daddy what he'd like you to sing."

"Sing anything you'd like, Boo," Robin smiled.

"Wa-wa-wa-wa-what?" Much sputtered indignantly. "Unbelievable!"

"This is a new one about Mama and you, Daddy," and Ellen sang the latest song concerning how Robin and his friends saved Marian from an evil knight who carried her off. A few of the lyrics were quite suggestive, and Much colored and looked aghast, but Robin and Marian knew their little girl was uncomprehendingly only repeating what she had heard.

Before she had finished, Robin suddenly reined his horse and held up his hand.

"Hold...hold," he warned. He looked about them, his face intense. "Marian, get the women and children into the carriage...now." He unbuckled his belt and lifted Ellen onto the ground. Marian first tried to tie Llamrei to a tree, but Robin repeated, "Now, Marian!"

As he cocked an arrow on his bow, Much whispered, "Robin, what is it?"

Thomas and Michael, their manservants, rode forward with anxious faces. Neither one were used to fighting, even though Robin had been teaching Thomas to fight as best as he could.

Robin looked about him, listening, and sniffing the air. "Unless I'm very much mistaken, Much," he whispered, almost grinning, now that the women and children were hidden, "we are about to be ambushed."

"Surely not!" Much whispered. "I hate this!"

The next few moments were a complete blur to Much. Wild cries rang out, as five men armed with makeshift weapons raced toward them. Much leaped from his horse and readied himself to fight, but it was unnecessary, as Robin's arrows quickly stopped the would be thieves. He shot, just as each man neared a tree, pinning each one's shirt to a tree trunk, not even grazing the men, but holding them captive.

Laughing, Robin leaped from his horse and called, "It's alright! You may all come out and see what I've caught!"

The carriage door opened, and Marian stepped down, clutching both her girls to her breast. The rest of the group followed. Grace was wide awake again, and proud of herself for escaping the carriage.

"So, what have we here?" Robin asked smugly, approaching the five thieves. Much was right behind him, smiling, and crowing, "You picked the wrong party to ambush, Dunderheads!" But Robin and Much both reeled back in surprise when they pulled the hoods back from the thieves' faces.

"You!"

"Hello, Robin. Hello, Much." Forest and Hanton stared sheepishly at their former colleagues. The other three thieves were strangers.

"What do you think you're doing?" Robin asked, angrily.

Marian spoke up. "You know these people?"

"At one time, they were members of my gang! They were Little John's men, until they joined up with me."

Hanton asked, "Umm...do you think you might free us now?"

But Robin was angry. "Don't tell me you've been thieving these past five years!"

"We won't," Forest said. "We've been thieving these past ten years."

"But why? There's no need. The country's enjoyed prosperity under the King..." Robin's voice caught, and Much had to carry on for him.

"Robin's right. And why did you leave our gang, anyway? Robin treated you well...better than you deserved, if you ask me! What happened? Did you get scared and flee? Or is it fly? Flee? Fly? Flee? Which is it? Flee, I think. Anyway, here's news for you...after you left, we had a woman join our gang! That's right...a woman! And she was braver than the two of you dunderheads put together! Not to mention prettier! And smarter, too! So, why don't you two just jigger off! You heard me!"

"Maybe we did get scared. What of it? Robin led us straight in danger, over and over again. Right in the path of that Sheriff and his thug Gisbourne. And for what? To help others, not ourselves."

"Ah ha!" Much shouted. "You are cowards, as well as dunderheads."

"At least we're alive. Unlike Roy."

Robin's eyes flashed fire. He strode to his horse and dug through the pack on his saddle, pulling out a purse filled with silver coins, and threw it at their feet.

"Let them go, Much," he ordered, with disdain. "Take the money, and bother no more travellers today. Let's go," he told his party.

Marian could tell the mention of Roy's death had affected him. She wanted to share a horse with him, to hold him and talk it out, even though she knew how difficult he would make that. But it was impossible for now. Instead, she said, "Grace is wide awake, and nothing on Heaven or Earth will induce her to ride in the carriage again. So, which little girl rides with Daddy?"

"Me! Me! Me!" cried Grace.

"I'll ride with you, Mama," Ellen offered generously.

At the sound of his girls' voices, Robin seemed to cheer, but his eyes continued to wear their hard cast. "Come on then, Apple Blossom," he said, giving Marian a hasty kiss as he lifted Grace from her arms. As he leaped with his daughter into the saddle, Grace squealed with delight.

"But, but, but, but, but, Robin," protested Much, "you can't give money to these...these...you can't give them money!"

"He just did, Much," Marian said. "Come. Let's just go."

After everyone resumed their journey, Tweeks swung his wooden sword.

"Ow!" Much cried.

"Sorry," said Tweeks.

...

"No! I refuse! I will not share!"

Soon-to-be-crowned King John was ranting and raving and throwing a royal fit. His mother, the Dowager Queen Eleanor, had made the mistake of mentioning that John's wife, Isabelle of Gloucester, would be crowned Queen in Westminster Abbey, just as he was to be crowned King.

"No! No, no, no, no, no! It isn't fair! I don't even like her, Mumsie! I refuse to share my glory with such a harpy!"

"John, your wife is the most patient, put upon, long suffering woman in the kingdom. At least give her this! You must."

"I won't! Richard got to be crowned all by himself! He didn't have to share!"

"That is because he wasn't married yet. He wed Berengaria shortly after his coronation. Don't you recall?"

"I don't care! I hate her! She's nothing to me! In fact, I want a divorce!"

"John, you cannot divorce her."

"I want an annulment then. Same as you got, Mumsie, from King Louis, so you could marry Daddy. Same reason, too. We're cousins...too close to be married. Thank God we have no issue! I wouldn't want my children looking like her!"

"Now, John..."

"Am I not King? Cannot I do to please myself now? I will have that annulment, and I will marry again! Oh! I know the perfect bride! I won't even have to change the monogram on the royal towels...her name's the same, you see! 'J and I,' surrounded by love knots...it still fits! Oh, Mumsie, thank you! Thank you! My brilliance amazes me! Oh, Oh! I have come up with the most marvelous plan! I will wed one whose beauty nearly approaches my own!"

...

**(Note: This chapter alludes to a song about Robin and Marian. Many sources I found online claim that the character Marian was not introduced into the Robin Hood legends until the 1700's or so, but this is false. A traveling minstrel named Adam de la Halle (1237-1287)composed "Le Jeu de Robin and Marion," a musical play with dialogue interspersed throughout. It tells the story of Marion, who loves Robin, but is wooed by a knight. She rejects him, telling him he is wasting his time, and he carries her off. Robin gathers his men but they cannot rescue her. Marion talks the knight into letting her go,and she rejoins Robin in the forest. As you can see, this is a very early Robin Hood story which features Marian. It is well known among scholars of Medieval music.)**


	7. Chapter 7

It couldn't be. It had to be a nightmare. But she knew it wasn't.

Marian rose with the entire congregation from a pew in Westminster Abbey as trumpets blared. She watched in disbelief as Robin and two other earls, holding swords of state, followed the kingdom's Chancellor and Treasurer, on their long slow walk down the nave of the immense church. Immediately behind them walked John and, inconceivably, Isabella of Gisbourne! Flanked by bishops, those two fiends wore expressions of holy rapture on their treacherous faces.

A choir sang a glorious anthem as Marian watched John and Isabella, having reached the transept, climb the steps to the high altar, to kneel at the feet of Hubert Walter, Archbishop of Canterbury. The Archbishop anointed each of them with holy oil from a silver bowl. He next placed crowns upon their heads, and the deed was done. Prayers were said, then both rose and began their victorious march back to exit the church, and receive the cheers and applause of the populace.

How could this have happened? John already had a wife, but had quickly cast her aside, and hastily married his mistress. Why hadn't the Pope intervened? What was wrong with people?

…

"We meet again. I always knew we would! It must be Fate!"

Marian stared in confusion at the richly dressed man addressing her. Did she know him? He seemed to know her.

She had been waiting for Robin uncomfortably in a huge hall in Westminster Palace, surrounded by nobles from all over the realm, awaiting the arrival of their newly crowned King and Queen. She hated crowds of people, especially those who posed and preened and pretended to be what they were not, and this crowd contained more false flatterers than any she had ever been subjected to.

"You don't recognize me, do you?" the man asked.

"You were one of three earls, along with my husband, in the Coronation ceremony today," she remarked.

"Yes...but you know me better than that. Am I really so changed, or did I not make any impression on you at all?"

Marian struggled to remember.

"How can you forget your very first kiss?"

Marian smiled. "My lord, I will never forget my very first kiss! Nor will my husband, I assure you, for it was he who kissed me."

"I think not."

Something about this tall blond nobleman repelled Marian. "I fear you mistake me for someone else. I am Lady Locksley, Countess of Huntington."

"I know who you are, Lady Marian. I, myself, never forget those whom I have kissed." He took her hand and pressed his lips to it. His hand was sweaty and his lips wet and flabby. She pulled her hand away.

"My lord, that may very well be, but we have never-"

She was interrupted by the arrival of Robin, who took her arm and unconsciously pulled her a step or two away from the other earl.

"Surrey," he said, accusingly, "I see you've wasted no time cornering my wife."

Marian's eyes widened. So, she did know him! He was Michael, Earl of Surrey, a man she had met in her extreme youth, whom Robin had once been terribly jealous of! He had changed! No longer a youth of angelic beauty, he looked debauched and fairly hideous to Marian, more like a leering drunken satyr than the cherubic knight she remembered.

"She insulted me, Locksley. She claims not to know me." He spoke about her as if she were not even present.

"Forgive me. I did not recognize you. It is good to see you again." Marian looked coolly at the earl, wishing he would go away. She was still confused about his claim to have been her "first kiss." She did not recall ever kissing him at all.

"Excuse us," Robin said abruptly, leading Marian away.

But Surrey hadn't finished with them yet. He followed, right at their heels.

"You should be thankful, Locksley, that I pay you or your lady wife any heed at all. Most of us plan to shun you, do you realize that? Oh, yes, the days of King Richard are over! You will find no favor in King John's Court! Better return to the peasants you championed, if you want any favor! They'll still give you attention, while they take your money...they and any two bit minstrel who can compose a rhyme about 'Robin Hood' to line his purse with half pennies."

"I guess we'll find out once again who our true friends are," Robin said.

He turned quickly, trying to shake Surrey from them, but the earl would not go so easily.

"What think you of the Queen, Locksley? John did well for himself, don't you agree? I'd like to find her in my bed...she looks like she can please a man! John 'Soft Sword' better be careful, lest I show her my sword. She won't find anything soft about it!"

"Would you care to step outside and continue your lewd talk there? My fists will teach you not to speak so crudely in front of my wife."

"I didn't realize you had a thing for Her Majesty, too."

"He doesn't!" Marian cried, before 'accidentally' grinding her heel onto the top of his foot. It inflicted just enough pain to allow them to get away.

"You won't believe who his new wife is," Robin said, through clenched teeth.

"Who?"

"Remember Lady Jane, who helped us a few years back?"

"No!" Marian recalled the sweet, timid young woman, who preferred to stay at Prince John's Court than dare to be rescued by Robin and herself. "Is she here?"

"Are you kidding? Surrey never brings his wife to Court. Not that he ever hides his 'indiscretions'...he'd just rather keep her under lock and key, to prevent her from having any pleasure at all."

Marian stopped walking, and squeezed Robin in a tight hug. His face lit up in delight.

"What was that for?" he grinned.

"For being you."

They noticed Much, standing at one of the food laden tables. Much didn't know he was supposed to wait for the King and Queen before eating, and he had already loaded a plate full of venison, sweetmeats, and imported figs.

"Hmm...good," Much smiled, taking a big bite and wiping his mouth with his sleeve. All the people close enough to notice were pointing at him with disdain, and muttering ugly things about him under their breath. And so, even though it was against protocol and Robin wasn't hungry, he picked up two plates and filled one for himself and one for Marian. Looking at the company with challenge in his eyes, he began to eat, as did Marian. It wasn't long before nearly everyone else in the hall had lined up to help themselves to food.

"Excellent venison!" Much declared. "You see, even on a bad day, you can find something good! That's what my mother used to say."

A fanfare of trumpets announced the arrival of the Royal party. Prince Arthur and Princess Eleanor, John's sister Princess Joan, and Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine entered first, followed by King John and his consort, Queen Isabella, formerly of Gisbourne.

"My loyal subjects," King John proclaimed, "We are moved to tears by your love for us! Today, the future begins...a glorious day for us! No more denying ourselves! You will have joy yourselves, knowing your Monarch is happy!"

The crowd applauded; some half heartedly, other sycophants clapping their hands with enthusiasm.

"They adore me!" King John exclaimed. "Do you see how they adore me?"

"Indeed, My King." Isabella had never looked more beautiful. Jewels on her body and the golden circlet she wore on her head suited her perfectly. "Sire, may I be the first to seek a royal favor from you?"

King John was exultant. "What sport! Ask away, my dear!"

"I would like to dismiss your former wife's attendants, and choose my own."

"Is that all? Yes, of course you must have ladies of your own choosing! Whom shall you select, my dear?"

Isabella scanned the crowd. This would be fun. "First, I insist upon Lady Locksley, Countess of Huntington!"

"Done! Who else?"

"I want her," she said, pointing to a very young girl on the arm of Michael, Earl of Surrey.

John looked as well. Seeing the girl with the long dark golden hair and the pouty mouth, he smiled a secretive smile and asked, "Who is she?"

"I am told she is Surrey's latest. Isabella of Angouleme, her name is. Very young, as all Surrey's conquests are. But I'm sure she is learning. Surrey is said to be an excellent teacher."

"You shall have her as well!" her husband declared. And so shall I, he thought to himself. So shall I.

...

**(Note: In fact, John did have his first marriage annulled, but he obviously didn't wed a fictional character. I just thought it would be fun to make Isabella queen, for the purpose of this story. The story has just introduced his actual second wife, Isabella of Angouleme, since I try to mix fact with fantasy. Michael of Surrey is fictional, and was one of the villains in my story May Day. Thanks for your reviews-keep them coming, if you please!)**


	8. Chapter 8

As Marian was returning to her chambers in the dilapidated Palace of Westminster, she stopped and smiled. It was her first smile in hours, for she had endured a very trying day as attendant to Queen Isabella.

What made her smile now was the sound of happy childrens' laughter coming from her rooms. Robin was obviously rough housing with the girls, and they were being very noisy. She could just picture Mattie's disapproving looks.

She opened the door to their rooms, and sure enough, there was her husband lying on the floor, with both girls squealing delightedly and crawling on top of him. He was laughing and threatening to "get" them in a very funny voice.

"Mama!" Ellen cried, leaping up and skipping towards her.

Grace, too, ran to her and demanded to be picked up, which Marian was only too pleased to do. She hugged her girls and sighed with pleasure.

Robin jumped up, dusted himself off, and planted a warm kiss on her mouth. He could see she looked worn and tense.

"Alright, rascals," he told their girls, "go see Mattie and get ready for bed. Mama and I will be in as soon as you're ready."

Marian put down her babies, and watched as they trotted hand in hand to the adjoining room.

Robin poured Marian a goblet of wine and offered it to her.

"Thank you," she sighed, sinking onto a bench. She kicked off her shoes and sighed again, this time in frustration.

"I spoke with Queen Eleanor," Robin told her. "She told me it's a privilege to serve 'Her Majesty.' "

"Privilege!"

"She's grieving over Richard. She's angry at the world, and that includes anyone who asks her a favor. I've asked leave to return home. You won't have to do this for long, Marian."

Marian looked up at him and smiled. "Rub my feet?" she asked.

He grinned and straddled the bench, lifting her feet onto his lap to begin a slow, deliberate foot massage, right through her silk stockings. His hands, so skilled with the bow, were very skilled at this as well. Marian fairly purred, it felt so good.

"Come here," she requested, when she had had enough. She lowered her feet and he slid close, moving in to kiss her lips, but she was preoccupied and didn't notice, instead resting her head against his chest. He wrapped her in his arms.

He had missed her today, knowing she was miserable under Isabella's command. They had seen each other off and on, at various receptions throughout the day, but it had been harder to speak to her than when he had been outlawed. Right now, he wanted nothing so much as to to take her straight to bed, confident he could make her forget everything that bothered her, but he knew her well enough to know she would need to talk this out first. So, he waited patiently for the words to come.

"She tried to humiliate me at every turn," she began.

"I expected nothing less. You didn't let her, of course."

"Of course." There was a pause. "I had to comb her hair."

Robin bit his tongue. That was what ladies' attendants did, but now was not the time to argue.

"And let me guess," he offered, "you 'accidentally' pulled too hard?"

"Of course."

He chuckled lightly. Trust Marian not to take it. "Well, that sounds like fun."

"It was, for one brief moment, until she screamed at me. Robin, you have no idea how shrill her voice can be!"

"Trust me...I do. What else?"

Marian was beginning to feel much better. "Oh, just her talk, while we changed her from one gown to another. References to you, to try and upset me. Same old story she always tries to pull on me." Whatever Robin was doing to her hair felt really, really good. "And that little girl she picked to serve alongside me! There's something wrong with her, Robin."

"How do you mean?"

"I don't know. She's just...perverse. She reminds me of a hungry animal, with no conscience. Isabella selected her because she's Surrey's mistress, and Isabella's interested in Surrey for herself."

"They deserve each other! But she can't go about choosing lovers. John won't stand for it." He still couldn't bring himself to say, "King John."

"Do you think the girls are ready to say, 'goodnight?' " Marian asked. "I need to get to bed. She wants me to report bright and early tomorrow, since it will take her ten times longer than it should to select just the 'right' gown and jewels." The tension had returned to Marian's voice.

"Let's go see." He couldn't wait to get her under the covers and help her forget. He felt quite a bit like a "hungry animal" himself.

...

"Goodbye, my love."

Early the following morning, Robin escorted Marian to Isabella's dressing chamber. In spite of the guards standing outside the door, they melted together in a long goodbye kiss.

When they had finished, Marian braced herself and pushed open the door. She was met by a furious Isabella, whose night had not been nearly as fulfilling as Marian's. Her husband had not come to bed at all, and when she had gone to his chambers seeking him, she had been told that no one was to disturb him at any cost. "You're late!" she screamed, throwing her hairbrush at Marian's head.

Hearing the loud thud from the other side of the door, Robin pushed the door open and entered the room. The guards tried to stop him, but Isabella let him in, once she saw who it was. She was wearing a thin nightdress and nothing else, and his presence excited her.

"Robin! Come to pay your respects in a private audience? It could be more private yet! Tell me, did you ever imagine I'd be your Queen?"

"Never," he answered honestly.

"Nor did I, to be perfectly frank. But here I am! Isn't life funny?"

"It's hilarious," he replied sarcastically. "Anyway," he resumed, "I heard a sound, and just wanted to make certain my wife was alright. Be warned, Isabella, if I find even so much as a single hair on her head harmed, you won't be laughing at life...you'll be crying."

"You would never hurt a woman. You can't...it's against everything you stand for."

"I'll do whatever it takes to protect my wife."

"Do you dare threaten your Queen? Are you really so bold as to think I won't tell my husband, the King?"

"Tell your husband the King what?" King John entered the room, along with his wife's other attendant, Isabella of Angloumene.

John had not yet received a visit from the royal hairdresser. His hair, typically meticulously combed and coifed and poufed and curled, lay flat and limp upon his head. His "companion" wore the same wrinkled gown she had worn at dinner last evening.

Queen Isabella looked suspiciously from John to the young girl. She was so young, she had a pimple on her nose and several on her forehead. She also had a small purple bruise at the base of her neck. Her brown eyes met the Queen's blue ones with a sullen expression.

Robin and Marian exchanged a glance. It was obvious what John had been up to, and he didn't care to hide it.

"Get ready," he ordered his Queen. "And dress warmly, or don't...I don't care. We are appearing before the populace today on the royal barge, sailing down the river to give the filthy throngs on the riverbank a chance to view our glory. Or, rather, to view my glory." He turned to Marian and the young Isabella. "Do your best, fair ones, to make the Queen presentable."

"You dare to sleep with my attendant?" Isabella screeched.

"I dare to do whatever I want! I am King! No one can stop me from having anything I desire! She pleases me!" He softened his tone. "No one's questioning your excellent taste, my dear. You have chosen two of the most delectable creatures living to serve you. And those who serve the Queen, must serve the King as well."

"I won't stand for it!" Isabella cried.

"You will stand for it, and anything else I care to dish out!" He spoke in a rage, and Isabella cowered at his temper. "I have made you Queen, and you will not question what I choose to do!"

Isabella shifted her tactic. "I know, My Liege. But can you blame me for not wanting to share? You are so magnificent, I want you all to myself!"

He laughed, bobbing his head from side to side. "I am, aren't I? But never fear, my pet...there is plenty of me to go around. As of now, I am confining my activities to you and your attendants." He leered at Marian. "When are you going to grace my bed, Miriam, my lovely one? Tonight?" He laughed at her indignant expression. "You are a feisty one! You will make me work for my conquest, I see."

Robin stepped forward, his eyes threatening death. "You know me," he said with loathing. "You know I am not afraid to die. Can you say the same?"

"Are you threatening your Monarch, Locksley?"

"Just asking a simple question."

The King shifted nervously. He knew Locksley really would find a way to kill him, should he take his wife. Well, he didn't need her anyway, for now. His new conquest was quite enough. Just like a brand new toy on Christmas morning, she was his new favorite plaything. Everything about her intrigued him.

"And just what are you doing, Locksley, in the Queen's dressing chamber, and she's not even dressed?" The King appeared shocked and indignant.

"I was just going. Remember my words, Your Majesty." He left, nodding first to Marian, who smiled at him. Her husband was the best man ever, and they would be able to get away from here and go home within a few days, she was certain. She just needed to make it through these next few hours, and the next few days, and they could take their little girls home.


	9. Chapter 9

The Thames teamed with small craft, and the royal barge pushed its way past them and through the floating garbage littering its waters. The sky was thick with grey clouds, a bitter wind had kicked in, and Marian wondered why the King would choose such a day to show himself upon his barge.

Cheering crowds lined the banks of the river, eager to catch a glimpse of the newly crowned King and Queen. Hearty aromas of fish, wool, and ale competed with the stench from the refuse and the unwashed citizens, whose cries of "God save the King!" nearly drowned out the peeling churchbells and the calls of boatmen and eel-wives. The country had enjoyed such prosperity these last five years, the people had forgotten their earlier tribulations under Prince John's regency.

In spite of the chill wind, Marian was warmed by Robin's company. Neither had realized they would be required to ride aboard the royal barge today, and they were enjoying this unexpected time together.

The barge also contained a few of the other highest peers in the country, including Michael, Earl of Surrey, and Prince Arthur and Princess Eleanor.

Robin and Marian exchanged pleasantries with the Prince and Princess, who preferred to stay at the center of the barge, as far away from the water as possible. Because Robin and Marian preferred to be close to the edge, they excused themselves and found a good spot for viewing the city.

Although Marian would rather ignore Surrey and his young mistress, the barge was small, and she couldn't help overhearing their argument.

"Do whatever you like. I don't care," the girl said petulantly.

"Do you think I need your leave to do what I like? You're no better than the trash floating on the river!"

"I don't care what you say." She spoke calmly, without passion, as if she were bored.

Surrey looked ready to strike her, yet she really didn't seem to care. He left her side, and strode toward Robin and Marian.

"Twelve-year-old whore," he spat.

"Twelve?" Marian asked in alarm.

"Thirteen next month. And I wasn't even her first. Probably not even her second, third, or fourth...but how can you tell for certain?"

"Does the King know how young she is?" Marian asked, still dismayed. "Where are her parents?"

Surrey laughed in her face, until he noticed the threatening gleam in Robin's eyes. "What, Locksley? Are you going to start a brawl? I will laugh at your wife, when she is so naive. And what about you? Are you planning to protect the young innocent maiden?"

Robin gave the girl a perfunctory glance. Even though she was twenty years his junior, there was something about her that told him she made her own choices, and was pleased with them. As Marian had said, there was something perverse about her. Amoral, as if she had been born without a conscience. No wonder the new King was so smitten by her.

She was not beautiful, by any standard. Her hair fell to her waist in dark golden locks, and her eyes were golden brown, brooding, and set wide apart in her square, childish face. Her pasty complexion was marred by sparse pimples, and her figure was ordinary, not slender and perfectly proportioned like Isabella's, or voluptuous and exquisite like Marian's curves...just average. She had nothing special to recommend her, in Robin's eyes, but then again, his standards were exceptionally high, being married to such a beautiful woman. The girl's most distinctive feature was her mouth, which was set in a perpetual pout. The lips were full and red. Marian found her mouth ugly, and pitied the poor girl for it, but Robin knew that other men would lust after the girl, for that mouth alone.

"I suggest you take your sparkling conversation elsewhere," Robin advised. "My wife and I are trying to speak of decent things."

"I should have trampled the pair of you when I had the chance," Surrey laughed derisively, and walked away. Years ago, he had unseated Robin in a joust, and had prepared to trample his body under his horse, when Marian blocked the path, saving Robin from certain death.

"He is a vile man," Marian shuddered.

"He is revolting!" Robin mimicked Much, winking at Marian. She laughed, shivering into him, and he fastened his cloak around both of them to keep out the cold.

Robin pointed out sights along the embankment, and even though a storm was brewing, both literally and figuritively in the kingdom, they were vastly enjoying the day together. Probably because of the impending storm, they felt giddy, as if this were Carnival immediately preceeding Shrovetide. Robin thought his wife looked adorable with the wind whipping her hair about her face, and tinging her cheeks and nose with pink. He really wanted to kiss her, but there wasn't any privacy.

His imitation of Much reminded Marian of their friend. "We'd better be home in time for your birthday next week, Handsome, or Much will be livid."

"Don't tell me you're letting him plan my celebration!"

"He's hiring jugglers. He insists you love jugglers."

"I did, when I was seven!" Robin laughed.

His hearty laughter made Queen Isabella turn and look at them. She chewed her lower lip, and couldn't take her eyes away.

Even though she was garbed in splendid robes of state and crowned Queen of all the realm, accepting the cheers of the crowd, she was miserable. Now that John was King, her flattery had no hold over him. What did it matter anymore that she called him,"Her King," when everyone else did, too? She felt her power slipping, and she wanted something more. The cheers along the riverbanks grew more and more lukewarm as the river wound eastward, toward the White Tower. The bitter weather reflected her mood. Yes, she wanted more. She wanted what Marian had.

The barge was sailing under London Bridge, a full seven stories in height, with a grand stone church at its center, still under construction. The bridge was unlike anything Marian had ever seen, so full of shops and stalls that Marian thought it might drop right off into the water. She smiled at her husband. "I'd like to climb off this boat and go exploring," she said.

"It's not a boat, it's a barge, Genius," he teased.

"Aren't you chivalrous today?"

"I'm cold!" he laughed, pressing his nose against her cheek, making her jump and stealing that kiss he'd been wanting. "We'll sneak away, once we land, Wren. It'll be fun. I may even buy you a present."

"Let's get something for the girls. But look, there's the Tower! Are we going to have to sail all the way back later? The only way it could be any worse would be if it begins to pour."

But she was wrong. It could be worse, and just then, it became so. A lone voice on the south bank began a new chant, and it was quickly picked up by the crowd.

"Long live Prince Arthur! Long live Prince Arthur!"

"What?" King John was outraged. "No!" he cried. "Someone, get them to stop that infernal caterwalling! Long live me! Long live me!"

The cries grew louder, but then changed to something else. "Long live King Arthur! Love live King Arthur!"

Prince Arthur appeared surprised, and distraught. In answer to his uncle's accusatory stare, he cried out, "Uncle, I had nothing to do with this!"

The barge docked, and the King practically pushed Isabella down the gangplank and toward the castle. "Everyone, inside at once!" he demanded. "Get Arthur out of their sight! And find out who started the treasonous cries. By God, they will be forced to love me and only me!"

"Come, Marian," Robin said quietly. "It looks like our fun will have to wait. Our cousin's going to need our help."


	10. Chapter 10

"Somebody find me the traitor who started this revolt!"

King John paced the floor in the Great Hall of the White Tower, screaming and bellowing in rage. Some unknown citizen along the riverbank had begun crying, "Long live Prince Arthur!" as the royal barge sailed by. Others had joined in, and the King was furious.

"A crowd of cold, damp, drunken citizens repeating the words of one man hardly constitutes a revolt, Your Majesty," Robin of Locksley stated firmly.

The King turned on Robin, his beady eyes narrowing. "I see you are quick to come to their defense, Locksley. You wouldn't have anything to do with this heinous revolt, would you? After all, Arthur is your cousin, as well as my nephew. You would have much to gain, were he to be named King instead of me."

"You have already been crowned, Sire. I took part in your Coronation, thereby swearing allegiance to you. I am no traitor."

Queen Isabella saw her chance…her chance to ingratiate herself once again to her husband, as well as gain Robin's attention. Even if the attention were negative, it was still better than being ignored by him. And who knew what might transpire between them, once she had him in her power? What might she be able to bargain, were he prisoner, and she Queen?

"My King," she said, "you are not safe while this rebel roams free! He has ever been your enemy! Do you not recall how he tried to steal your mother's affection while you were still boys? And what of the chaos he spread, stealing money that should have been yours, while he was "Robin Hood"? The late king should never have pardoned him! Lock him away in your dungeon, Sire! Lock him away at once! I have heard the dungeons here are the worst in your entire kingdom, and impossible to escape. I am certain he leads this rebellion!"

"Yes...yes, of course! Guards!" At the king's command, guards rushed forward and seized Robin's wrists.

"Uncle, this is not right!" Prince Arthur tried defending his cousin, but his appeal only made John more angry and convinced of Locksley's guilt.

"Ah ha! You come to his defense, do you? Do you know what you have just done, Arthur, my dear little laddie? You have just sealed his doom!"

"How so, My Lord?"

"My Lord what?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"My Lord KING!" John brayed. "That's right! I am King! Not Henry, not Richard, not Geoffrey, and certainly not you! Me! I am King, as my father desired! It has taken me years to achieve what is rightfully due me, and no adolescent nephew, or scurvy outlaw will strip me of my glory!"

John was practically foaming at the mouth. "Take him away!" he ordered his guards. "Lock in the foulest cell you can find. If I never see his churlish face again, it will be too soon!"

Marian could not believe this was happening. She ran and threw herself at the King's feet, begging for mercy.

"Your Majesty," she pleaded, "my husband has done nothing wrong! Please...please don't lock him away. There is no cause! There is no rebellion! No one questions your right to wear the Crown, Sire. Please...I'm begging you!"

King John stared at her, so beautiful on her knees before him, and at Locksley, at last his prisoner. Yes, this was delightful, if it weren't so serious! Miriam, begging him for a favor! Well, he might be able to strike a deal...or at least make her think he would! "What are you waiting for?" he asked his guards. "Take him away at once!"

"Are you prepared, my dear, to pay for his freedom?" John asked, after Robin was gone.

"Pay? Yes, of course! How much do you want?"

"So, you admit he is guilty!"

"No, Sire!"

"Then, why do you agree to pay?"

"Only because you asked me. I want my husband freed, and I'll do anything to accomplish that."

"Anything?" John approached her, his face leering as he pictured her naked in his bed.

Marian drew in her breath sharply. Oh, no. No. She wondered how far she would be willing to go to save Robin. She would die for him...easily. But this?

She had once kissed Guy of Gisbourne to save Robin's life. But a few kisses and being groped through her clothing were very different from what would be required here. Her throat went dry. If it guaranteed Robin's freedom, then...yes. She would rather die, but...yes. If it guaranteed his freedom. But she knew it wouldn't.

The King was a liar and a master manipulator. He would never keep his promise. He would take her, use her, and still keep Robin enslaved. Or worse.

She was almost relieved. They would find another way out of this. They always had in the past.

"Well, my dear? I asked you a question. Are you willing to pay for his freedom?"

Marian looked at him bravely. "No, Your Majesty." She prayed she was doing the right thing.

"What?"

"I am not willing to pay you."

"You dare to refuse? Then he will hang for his treason! You know that, do you not?"

Marian heard herself say in a small voice, "I will give you whatever you want."

...

While the King was preoccupied, pressuring Marian, the Queen sneakily shadowed the guards who were pulling Robin to the dungeon. They locked him in a damp cell complete with two inches of cold river water washing over the the floor, but lacking a bed or a place to sit.

Pressing her body against stone, Isabella hid, waiting for the guards to depart. They had no desire to linger. The dungeon was already said to be haunted by eerie specters, though the stench alone would have been enough to drive anyone away.

"So," she said, once they were alone, "you find yourself a prisoner once again."

Her feet remained dry. The corridor was a good two feet higher than the cell adjoining it, with no step for the prisoner to stand upon.

"Thanks to you and your vicious tongue," he responded.

"There was a time when you couldn't wait for my so called 'vicious tongue' to explore the inside of your mouth."

"I can't remember."

"You are a liar!" she screeched.

"It's better than being a shrew."

There was a shocked silence. "Look at you!" she mocked, when she had regained her composure. "A pathetic prisoner...my prisoner, locked in a vermin infested cell, with no chance to escape, and still as cocky as ever! There really is something seriously wrong with you."

"So I've been told, by better people than you."

"Who can be better than your Queen? So, what will happen to you now, Robin, do you think? Your fetid little gang of outlaws doesn't exist anymore. They've all gone their separate ways. Besides, the only ones within a hundred miles of here are your wife, and that idiot Bonchurch. Don't tell me your children will help you escape! Do they secretly wear itty bitty little outlaw tags under their velvet gowns?"

"You leave my children out of this."

"Do you know what people are saying, Robin? They say you can't father a son. Two daughters, but no son. They question your manhood, Robin."

He laughed in disbelief. "That doesn't even bear repeating." Even now, he was too much of a gentleman to throw it in her face that she herself was barren. He did wonder, however, how long King John would stand for his second wife providing him no heir. "Well," he continued, smiling smugly, "I guess I'll just have to get busy and prove them wrong."

"And how are you going to do that, locked in this cell?"

"I'll find a way."

"You sound so sure."

He didn't respond, but just stared confidently at her, undaunted, his feet spread wide apart, his arms folded across his chest. The water lapped around his ankles as it began to rise.

"Do you have a plan? Or even half a one?" she mocked.

He had no plan. If she would just go away, then he could begin to think up one.

His silence convinced her he was stuck. She began to carry out her own devious plan.

"Have you ever considered that I might just be your way out of here?"

"You? You're the reason I'm locked up here in the first place!"

"That's right. But I can also get you out. You seem to forget the power I hold as Queen, Robin. I can convince His Majesty to release you, and all you have to do is be a little friendly to me."

"I wonder what the King would think of your plan."

"If you tell him, I will insist you're lying. And he'll believe me. He loves to hear bad things concerning you. So, what's it going to be? Surely the thought of us making love can't be that distasteful to you, Robin! You are a man, after all! Or, is what the people say about your lack of manhood true? I'll leave you now to ponder your decision. I'm sure it won't take you long."

She laughed. "I mean the decision, not the love making! But, that applies as well, doesn't it? At least it did. Perhaps you can do better this time. Goodbye. Never fear...I'll return shortly to hear what you decide. In the meantime, enjoy your accomodations."

"No need to return," he called, as she sauntered away. "The answer is, and will always be, 'No.' "

Robin was left alone at last.

"Think, Robin, think," he told himself, looking all around his cell for a means to escape.


	11. Chapter 11

"Careful. Mind your step, Your Majesty…the stones tend to get slippery right along here."

Robin cringed. The guard's deep, hoarse voice echoing down the corridor informed him he was about to receive a visit from the King, or the Queen, and he didn't want to deal with either snake right now.

Although he hadn't figured out a way out yet, he had managed to keep his feet relatively dry by wedging himself in a corner of his cell and pressing his back and buttocks against one stone wall, while pushing his feet against another. But his lower back, calves, and thighs were sore from holding the pose so long, and he had been weighing the trade off between remaining in his cramped position, or jumping down, stretching his muscles, and enduring cold wet feet.

Well, it made no difference now. He had to jump down. Etiquette had been drilled so firmly into him growing up he could not sit in the presence of royalty, no matter the conditions. Prisoner or no, he would stand and bow.

He grimaced as his feet splashed into the frigid water seeping through his boots and stockings. But he bowed his head all the same. It darted up the instant he heard the 'royal' voice speak.

"This is outrageous!" protested the lovely voice of his wife. "This is where you see fit to lock away His Majesty's most loyal subject?"

"I cannot say, Your Grace. We were told to lock him up."

Robin tried not to smile as he peered at Marian. She had borrowed one of the Queen's golden circlets, and wore it proudly upon her head, her luxuriant chestnut colored hair flowing loosely beneath. She also wore Isabella's ermine trimmed robe of state, and he bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from grinning ear to ear.

He knew that Marian had taken a calculated risk, realizing the guards here were not yet familiar with the new Queen's face as to recognize an imposter. There was enough of a resemblance for her to possibly get away with the charade, and so far, it seemed to be working. And, as Attendant to Her Majesty, she had access to her clothing and jewels. Robin's heart swelled with love and pride. He had to admit, her clever rescue plan was quite impressive.

"Locksley," she said in a cold regal voice, "you are released, by order of the King. Unlock this cell," she ordered the guard.

"Yes, Your Majesty." The guard flipped through the heavy bunch of keys attached to an iron ring, found the right one, and was just about to slip it into the lock, when Marian cried, "Wait!"

Wait? Robin wondered. What did she mean, "Wait?"

"I would speak to the prisoner alone first. Stand over there. I'll summon you when I have finished."

"Yes, Your Grace." The guard moved just out of earshot.

Marian dropped to her knees, so she could be close to Robin's face. For a moment, they simply smiled lovingly at one another through the bars.

"Nice work," he grinned at last. "Like I said before...together we're stronger."

They clasped hands for an instant, then she became all seriousness. "Meet me on the other side of the river, at the base of London Bridge. And be careful!" she whispered urgently. Standing, she turned and commanded, "Guard, set this prisoner free."

...

Nearly an hour later, Robin jostled his way among the crowd of Londoners at the base of London Bridge. The winds had blown the clouds away, and pale sunlight filtered down from the sky, making everything cheerier. Vendors competed for coin by shouting out their wares, and Robin was vastly enjoying all the hustle and bustle of humanity and animals around him.

His clothing did not give away his noble rank. Both he and Marian preferred simple clothing over finery, choosing to spend their wealth helping others rather than wasting it on extravagances for themselves. That did not mean they were deprived. They did enjoy the finer things in life, as long as their villeins and servants were all well fed and housed. But the clothing they wore most days was simple rather than ostentatious.

He purchased a warm pair of new woolen stockings, replacing his wet ones. While he waited for Marian to arrive, he eyed the goods in various stalls, looking for something pretty he might buy her.

A toothless prostitute stepped into his path. "Fancy a rollover, pretty gent? Only a 'alf farthin'." She couldn't believe her good fortune when he opened his purse, but he merely put a coin in her hand and walked away.

His stomach growled, reminding him he hadn't eaten since breakfast. The fragrant smell of meat pies greeted his nostrils, and he hastened to a stall selling these, and good stout ale. "Ale and a beef pie, please," he requested politely, pulling a coin from his purse. When he placed the money down, his eyes met those of the buxom blond wench manning the stall. Something sparked a familiar note, but he couldn't place her. She seemed to recognize him as well, but was also struggling to recall his identity.

"You're from the North," she stated, speaking with a northern accent herself.

"Nottinghamshire," he answered pleasantly. "I'm from...Locksley?" It was a question to gage whether she knew of his village.

She opened her mouth and uttered a slight scream. People all around them stared. "I remember you!" she cried. "You're the one who got away!"

Robin looked about him nervously. Had news of his escape today really traveled so fast? Was Marian alright, or did this mean she might be in danger?

"My name's Sarah. You fought with my father, a fuller, eight years ago. You and your friend were returning home."

"Sarah!" Robin vaguely remembered, relieved it had nothing to do with his escape today. So, she was one of the women he had dallied with on his way home from war! The five or six women who pursued him on his journey home all blended together in his memory, but he was pleased to see that this one was extremely attractive, in a cheap and obvious sort of way. He couldn't help but feel a bit smug and self satisfied, as his eyes traveled from her face to her ample partially exposed bosom.

A fight with her father, she had said. Again, that did not distinguish his encounter with her over the others. A fight with a father, a fight with a brother, a fight with a husband...it was the same story every time he had given in to the temptation. Only the accent and hair color of the girls were different. And the name. He made it a point to remember their names.

"My father's not here now," she suggested seductively. Behind the stall, where no one could see but himself, she lifted her skirts all the way up to her waist with one hand, and indicated with a flip of her head where they could go for some privacy. He jumped as he felt her other hand slide right up between his thighs.

"That is very kind," he said, removing her hand, "but my wife is here...or, she will be along shortly." Sarah sighed and dropped her skirts, just as Marian joined Robin's side.

"Found you!" she cried, and he happily kissed her sweet lips. "Having fun?" she asked innocently, when the kiss ended.

"Not as much as he could be having," Sarah grumbled.

"Hungry?" Robin asked. "I was just buying something to eat. Sarah, another pie for my wife, if you please," he said, emphasizing the "wife."

Sarah looked Marian up and down. "Beef or mutton?"

"Beef," Marian decided. She looked at the serving woman carefully. Robin was acting unusually nervous, and it wasn't from his escape. Escapes never made him nervous! Something was up. "You're from the North, aren't you?" Marian asked. "So are we. I detect a northern accent."

"I'm from up your way," Sarah answered, "but I've lived here these past eight years. That's how I knew how many years it's been since I met your husband. A month or two after we met, I ran away from home and came here."

"You've met before?" Marian asked. She wouldn't be suspicious, except for Robin behaving so guiltily. Numerous people knew Robin. Eight years ago would have been when he had returned home from battle, and been outlawed. He must have aided her as "Robin Hood." But what else?

"Mama! I'm hungry!" A small boy with gorgeous blue eyes, who appeared to be about seven, ran into the stall, pushing his way between Robin and Marian.

"Mind the gent and lady!" Sarah cried, boxing his ears.

"Ow!" he screamed.

"Is he yours?" Robin gulped, trying to calculate how old the child was in relation to when he had first met Sarah. Isabella's accusations in the dungeons about him not fathering any sons had got him thinking. He didn't remember he had done no more than kiss Sarah so many years ago. "Is he yours?" he repeated frantically, thinking instead, "Is he mine?"

"You're daft," Sarah said. "He wouldn't be calling me, 'Mama' now, would he, if he weren't mine."

"When's your birthday, lad?" Robin asked gently, bending down to meet the boy at the child's eye level. "Mine's next week."

"January. January the twenty-fourth. I'll be eight next birthday."

Robin's eyes widened as he did the math. This boy must be his son! "Can you shoot?" he found himself asking.

Marian wondered what was wrong with her husband. She had eaten her meat pie, but Robin hadn't even touched his. "Come away, Handsome," she said, steering him by the arm. "As much as I'd like to blend in with the crowd and enjoy the day, we need to plan what we ought to do. I think we should take a boat back to Westminster and collect the girls. But where should we go from there? If the King wants you outlawed again, so be it. But we can't raise our girls in the forest, Robin, and I know you'll never abandon your people. So, what are we going to do?"

"No," Robin said. "I can't. I can't abandon my people." He turned back around, staring at the fair haired boy he had just met.

"Not bein' funny," the child said to his mother, "but that gent is strange!"

"Shut up, Allan, and go pick us some more pockets," Sarah ordered.

...

**(Note: Surprise! Thanks to FireSpringRoses for the Middle English term "fuller", a workman who "fulls" cloth.)**


	12. Chapter 12

Robin and Marian surreptitiously wound their way through the hallways of the Palace of Westminster, on their way back to their chambers. They arrived undetected, and breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed safely behind them.

They had heard Grace's cries all the way down the corridor, so they immediately pushed open the door to the girls' room.

Ellen and Tweeks sat on the floor, playing with a set of carved wooden animals, a gift from Will Scarlet. Mattie was mending one of Grace's bonnets, while Much paced the room, holding a screaming red faced Grace, who refused to take her nap.

"Good!" Much cried, pleased to see Robin and Marian burst in. "About time you got here! Your baby is wailing again."

When Marian reached for her, Grace immediately settled down. "She doesn't wail!" Marian insisted.

"Please! She wails so loudly, King John ought to make her his next Town Crier!"

"That's enough, Much," Robin ordered.

"I'm not saying anything. I'm not saying anything." There was a pause. Then, to himself, just loudly enough for Robin to hear, he said, knowingly, "Got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, did we?"

"No, Much."

Robin tenderly stroked his palm over the top of Grace's head, as Marian cradled her, swaying softly from side to side, lulling her to sleep. As always when he touched his baby's head, he was amazed at the downy softness of her sparse hair. He gazed in wonderment into her round little face. Eyelids heavy with exhaustion shut, then flipped open, as she made one final effort to stay awake. Rosy lips parted slightly, revealing a few tiny pearls for teeth. Chubby cheeks, still flushed from her recent outburst, were bathed with freshly shed tears. And Marian, so incredibly beautiful and patient with her...Marian, whose typical impatience was part of her charm! Robin thought the image of his wife holding their daughter was a vision of true love, and one he would carry with him to the grave.

He turned to Ellen, sitting crossed legged on the floor beside Tweeks. It made him inexpressibly glad to see his own sweet little girl playing with his friend's boy, reminding him of their boyhood together. Tweeks looked just like Much at that age!

Robin crouched down beside them. "What have we got here?"

"It's a bear, Daddy. Tell Tweeks it's a bear. Make him stop making it bark."

"Woof! Woof!" Tweeks said, holding the bear in Robin's face.

"Let me see," Robin said, carefully considering the toy. "It could be a bear, or it might be a very large dog, with bear claws."

"Silly Daddy," Ellen giggled, and he squeezed her in a bear hug, smiling as he inhaled the fresh scent of her hair.

Suddenly, they heard a loud commotion outside their rooms. Robin and Marian turned to each other, instinctively holding on more tightly to their children.

"Open this door, in the name of the Queen!" boomed a loud commanding voice.

"I still can't think of Gisbourne's sister as Queen," Much complained. "I mean, Queen's are supposed to be...supposed to be...well, queenly, and she's just...she's..."

He was interrupted by Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine, surrounded by men-at-arms, bursting through their door. All present bowed or curtsied, except for Grace, who slept in Marian's arms, and Tweeks, who barked loudly.

"Is this your son, Bonchurch?" the Queen Mother scolded.

"He is," Much acknowledged anxiously.

"Well, perhaps I am not the best example of teaching one's children to display good manners. My son, King John, showed dreadful manners today towards you, Robin, or so I've been told."

"It is not my place to criticize the King, but, yes, Your Majesty, he did."

"John must learn that kings cannot be universally loved. It is natural for the crowd to show favoritism for Arthur. They know nothing of him, save his legendary name." She turned to Robin and continued her scolding tone. "Your cousin Constance was responsible for that name, Robin. I wanted the boy christened 'Henry,' but she defied me and selected 'Arthur.' "

"Is it not a mother's right?" Robin wheedled charmingly. "I am certain you did not allow your mother-in-law to choose your children's names. And my lady wife got her way with ours, though I happily acquiesced when she named our firstborn after Your Majesty."

The Queen Mother smiled. "Ever the charmer, Robin. I believe you could talk your way out of a dungeon, with that silver tongue and that infernal grin of yours."

"Believe me, Your Majesty, I have tried, and failed every time. It takes more cunning than a smile to escape the dungeons." He turned and winked at Marian.

Queen Eleanor noticed the wink. "It takes a bold lady to break the law by impersonating the Queen, does it not, Lady Locksley?"

"I would break a thousand laws to free my husband," Marian proclaimed.

"Well, that will not be necessary, not while I still live and breathe. I will speak to my son the king, and we will forget all about this unpleasant incident. You are absolved from any wrongdoing. Both of you," she added meaningfully.

She turned and walked from the room, leaving Robin once again a free man.

...

That night, three separate bedchambers held three very different couples.

The King's sumptuous chamber held King John, and the young and sullen Isabella of Angloumene. Of course, the King was imbibing wine.

They had made love, being careful not to muss John's carefully coifed hair, which he took so much pride in. Isabella's dark golden locks tumbled down, thoroughly mussed. John felt the messier her hair, the more successful he was as a lover. So, he mussed it a great deal.

"I thought a king could do anything. Why do you listen to that old woman?" Isabella poured the contents of her cup down her throat, thirsty for a satisfaction she had not achieved.

"I can do anything! I choose to listen to 'that old woman,' because she's my Mummy! But don't forget, I can always lock her away in a castle somewhere and lose the key, should she crimp my fun too much. But why do you care if Locksley goes free?"

"I don't. I just want you to make your own choices, and not follow your 'Mummy.' "

"Never fear, my dear, it was worth it to see the look on my dear wife's face, when she learned that Mummy had released Locksley! Did you see her sneer? She turned a bit hideous, if you ask me!" He laughed merrily awhile, but his mood quickly turned sour. "No, I'll let Locksley roam free for now, just to thwart the Queen! She'll have to work harder, if she means to get him in her bed. I will not be made to wear horns, especially by LOCKSLEY!"

However, he didn't realize that his "horned cap" was already in place, for in the Queen's chamber, his wife was enjoying the amorous attentions of the well practiced Earl of Surrey.

"Didn't I suggest this would be a marvelous way to get even with your husband?" Surrey asked, panting.

"You did! And you were right! Oh, how you were right!"

Who needed Robin now? She didn't even understand her fascination with the man! He was a do gooder, a smug mouthed fool, a...but he was a feast for her eyes! No matter...all she needed to do was close her eyes, picture Robin, and let Surrey take care of the rest!

And in the final chamber, Marian didn't realize it, but there were three things she had in common with Queen Isabella. One was beautiful blue eyes, two was lovely dark curly hair, and three was agreeing that Robin was a feast for her eyes.

The girls were at last in bed, peacefully drifting off to sleep, and Marian entered her bedchamber to find Robin already undressed and in bed. In the candlelight, he looked lost in thought, sitting up, a blanket covering his bottom half, leaning back with one bent arm thrown behind his head. Marian remained very quiet and still, telling herself she didn't wish to disturb his thoughts, when in reality she wanted to gaze at him as long as possible. He was so beautiful...an absolute perfect specimen of a man...a work of art! Beautiful, beautiful Lord of Locksley.

She wondered what so occupied his thoughts. Could it be his imprisonment today? He seemed to have taken that in stride. Yet, perhaps it brought back memories, and hidden fears. She prayed he would be free of nightmares tonight, as would Ellen.

She pushed these thoughts from her mind, and focused again on her husband's form. She drew a deep hot breath, desperate want flooding her. When she felt she could stand it no longer, she ran and climbed onto the bed, surprising Robin from his musings.

"Sorry," she apologized. "You were thinking so hard, I didn't want to bother you." She snuggled right up against him, and felt his arm encircle her waist.

"How could you ever be a 'bother?' You," he said emphatically, tapping her nose, "were my deliverer today."

"So you agree I'm no longer a nuisance?"

"I wouldn't go that far."

The nose tap. He did that when he felt adoringly appreciative and protective of her, but it was hardly the passionate response she was hoping for. Well, it never took much to ignite his passion. One word, one look, or there were other ways.

Marian sat up and pressed her mouth and her body to his, pouring out her need. He responded, but not with his usual fervor. He felt miles away.

"Robin, what is it? What's on your mind?"

He shook his head in lieu of a response, and tried to focus his attention on her. He slipped her nightdress off one shoulder, and buried his lips in the warm soft flesh he had uncovered, but his kisses were only half hearted.

Marian was alarmed. This was so unlike him! She pulled away.

"Sweetheart, talk to me! What did they do to you in that dungeon? Robin...Robin, please! Don't shut me out!"

He stared at her, his eyes woefully sorry for the pain he was about to inflict.

"Marian," he said, his voice catching, "I think I have a son!"


	13. Chapter 13

"A son? How? Where?"

Marian sat up in bed, looking directly into her husband's eyes, bewildered and confused. He had just confessed he thought he had a son, and she needed to hear details.

"The boy at the bridge today," Robin began.

"The one with the slut for a mother?" Marian asked. She must be very upset, for it was completely unlike her to use such language.

"Sarah," Robin nodded.

"Sarah," she repeated, through clenched teeth.

"You remember how I told you I had…how when I was returning home from the Holy Land…."

"The so called 'Holy Land' didn't have such a holy effect on you, did it, Robin?"

"That's not fair," he objected. "I told you I thought you'd be married."

"And were you correct?"

"You're the one who threw your betrothal ring in my face!"

"Only because you told me you were heading off to war! We were supposed to marry in a year's time! How did you expect me to react?"

"And I've since told you going to war was a mistake!"

They sat staring at one another, breathing heavily in their distress.

Robin believed this argument had been settled years ago. He let out a deep, anguished sigh. "I think the boy's mine. The dates line up. I don't know, but I think he's mine."

"How many others, Robin? How many other glorious little archers will start popping up all over Christendom?"

"Shh, Marian. It's alright. Shh."

His attempt to comfort her only made her more angry. "I will not be shushed!"

Her words brought them both back to the last time she had said them, years ago, in a cave, when she was wounded and close to death. It was then that Robin had first admitted to her he had made a mistake by going to war. The emotion they had felt that night came flooding back, and Marian instantly forgave him.

"Well," she said, taking a deep breath, "I suppose we'll need to get better acquainted."

Many men had bastard children. Even the late King, a knight celebrated for his honor and chivalry, had a bastard son. But Marian still didn't like it. Her father had never…. She was sure of it.

"I love you, Robin," she said curtly, pecking quickly at his cheek, before lying down and turning away from him.

"And I love you," he said, his voice full of feeling.

He lay down as well, facing her back, and gingerly wrapped her body in his arms. He felt her stiffen, but she did not push him away.

After a few moments, her body lost its tension and relaxed into his. "He doesn't look like you at that age," she murmured. "He looks like...I don't know, but he reminds me of someone."

"Ellie and Grace don't look like either one of us, but they're beautiful," Robin said.

Marian somehow didn't like him bringing the girls into this. She whipped around and faced him. "Of course they're beautiful! They're the most beautiful children ever!"

"Agreed," Robin said, confused by her rekindled anger. He tried to stroke her cheek with his thumb, but she pushed away his hand.

After a few moments, she wondered, "So, I suppose you'll return to the bridge tomorrow?"

He nodded his head. "Come with me?" he asked.

"I can't. I have to attend 'Her Majesty.' " She wove her hands into his hair now, most traces of irritation gone, at least for the moment. "Robin, I don't like it that the girls are so cooped up here. I want to go home! They need to get outside and play in the fresh air."

"I know, my love. I know. I'll appeal to both queens again tomorrow. I can't see Isabella granting me any favors, but at least she's not immune to my charm."

"Well, try not to be too charming."

"I'll always be true, Marian, in spite of the past. You know that, don't you?"

She knew it. She trusted his heart, and his honor. She knew she could also trust him to do the right thing for their family, and for the boy. Her lips tentatively reached out for his. The instant they touched, a fire ignited in both of them.

There was nothing half hearted about his kisses now. They fairly poured themselves into each other, recommitting themselves to the overpowering love that continued to grow with each passing day.

All of a sudden, they were interrupted by a high pitched blood curdling scream in the adjoining room. "Ellen!" they both cried at once. Marian was out of bed and through the door before Robin had shoved a leg through his trousers. Damn Gisbourne, he cursed once more, rushing to comfort his sweet child from her nightmare of the "black man."

...

There was no doubt about it. Queen Isabella was in a splendid mood the following morning.

The same thing couldn't be said for either of her attendants. Isabella of Angloumene wore her typical scowl, and Marian of Locksley wore a "Don't even think about speaking to me" expression on her face. But the Queen couldn't be more pleased with life.

The new gowns she had ordered had been delivered, and she knew she looked stunning in the scarlet one. She also had many new jewels to choose from, and her new dangling earrings alone had cost a fortune.

The King had broken his fast with her, and if he appeared suspicious of her light hearted mood, then no matter. Let him stew! He'd soon learn she wasn't like his first wife, who closed her eyes to his rampant infidelities. If he wanted to play "Musical beds," then so could she!

And now, here was Robin of Locksley, bowing before her, come to seek a favor. How satisfying! Robin, on one knee, begging for a favor, while his wife, her servant, stood behind her, watching!

"Your Majesty," Robin said, smiling at her, "I seek your leave to return home to Locksley. Much as I was honored to take part in your Coronation, I feel it's time I take my family home to our lands. Lord Bonchurch has already received permission to go, and awaits me."

"He's still your shadow, isn't he, Robin?"

"My friend, rather, Your Majesty."

"You are being unusually respectful this morning. And flattering! Can it be you've finally accepted me as Queen, or is it because you want something from me?"

He laughed in that charming way he had. "A little of both, Your Majesty."

She stared at him, weighing her decision. Now that she had Surrey, she didn't need him any more. "Very well, I grant you leave to go. Go home to that filthy little hovel you love so well."

She saw him smile ecstatically at Marian. But Marian wasn't so easily fooled. Isabella heard her ask, "All of us? I assume you are granting me leave to go home as well?"

Isabella considered. It was priceless to watch the confident grin fade from Robin's face, to be replaced by a look of worry.

"Perhaps."

There! Let him stew as well! Oh, holding power was so rewarding!

"You are dismisssed!" Isabella ordered.

...

Isabella spent the rest of the day trying on new gowns, standing on the balcony to receive cheers from the crowds of minions below, and ordering new trinkets. Her new looking glass was of the finest quality, or was it just what she found reflected in it?

She did manage to complain to her lord King about the condition of his...no, make that "their" castle. The Palace of Westminster lay in a wretched state of disrepair, since the followers of King Stephen had ransacked it ages ago. No matter. There were plenty of other royal residences. And a hefty increase in taxes would go far to pay for repairs.

She stifled a yawn. Yes, her wild night with Surrey had deprived her of sleep. Perhaps a nap would suit her. She snapped her fingers at her two attendants to follow her to her bedchamber. They could dress her in her new nightdress, and brush her hair...then stand silently by watching and waiting as she slept.

Opening the door to her bedchamber, Isabella stood still in shock. Right behind her, Lady Marian also froze in apparent horror. Isabella of Angloumene barely reacted, just raising one eyebrow at the terrible sight which accousted them.

Hanging from a rope suspended directly over the Queen's bed, the Earl of Surrey's bloated lifeless body swung, his eyes popped from their sockets, his neck snapped in two.

The silence was shattered by the Queen's terrified shrieks.

...

**(Note: I borrowed the final gruesome incident of this chapter from an actual event. King John actually hung one of Isabella of Angloumene's lovers right over her bed. I've said it before and I'll say it again...John was such a lovely demon-I mean, man.)**


	14. Chapter 14

While Marian pulled a screaming Isabella away from the gruesome spectacle of the Earl of Surrey's lifeless body hanging over the Queen's bed, Robin had sought out Sarah at the base of London Bridge.

"Come back to see me, did you? I figured you'd be back without your wife." Sarah gave him a hungry look.

"She wanted to come, but responsibilities kept her away," Robin explained nervously.

"They did, did they?" Sarah wasn't buying that. For someone who appeared so confident, he was being a shy one!

Robin looked around. The boy wasn't anywhere to be found, but would be along shortly, he hoped.

He decided he might as well go fishing for some details about his past tryst with Sarah, since he really couldn't remember anything. Was she the one who...? He really didn't need to remember that.

"So," he began with a swagger, "it's very kind of you to remember me. Just what exactly do you remember, Sarah?" Well, that wasn't as smooth as he would have liked, but the whole situation was awkward. And he couldn't depend on his charm…he was a happily married man now. It would be so much easier if he could turn on his charm! He could say any inane thing and she would turn to jelly.

"I remember you leaping off the top of our barn, doing a backflip, like you was some kind of bird what could fly."

He remembered that, too. He hoped she had been suitably impressed.

"You mentioned you ran away from home a month or two after we met. Is that because...?"

"Because I had to. My father would've killed me if he knew I got knocked up."

Guilt struck Robin like a kick to his gut. "I am so sorry," he told her sincerely. "It must have been hard on you, all alone like that."

"Well, it weren't easy, but it all worked out. I like it better here."

"And your son must be a joy and comfort to you."

Sarah gave him a look of disbelief. "Yeah...right. Why are you here, anyway? You didn't come for the meat pies, I know that. And it seems a bit odd, you wanting to chat so much."

Robin took a deep breath. "Sarah," he began, getting to the reason for his visit, "I'd like to help. I'd like to do whatever I can to assist you, and the boy. Tell me, please, what can I do to best help you?"

What did he mean, she wondered. Yesterday, he had struck her as daft, and he seemed even more so today. Help her? Why would he want to help her? It wasn't as if she needed help, or he owed her or anything. Unless...unless he was some kind of do gooder, and he thought...

But why would he think that? Didn't he remember her father had interrupted them before they'd even begun? Apparently he didn't! Well, she'd just have to see what she might get out of this!

"Who are you, anyway?" she asked.

Robin felt stunned. She didn't know his name? Surely he had told her his name! It had made the dealings feel less casual...he'd felt more connected, somehow.

"I was christened 'Robert,' but I go by 'Robin.' I'm the Earl of Huntington, and Lord of Locksley."

Sarah let out a loud guffaw. "You...an earl? You don't dress like any earl I've ever seen." Not that she'd ever seen an earl, but his simple attire did not match what she thought an earl should wear. Four million citizens in the kingdom, and only twenty earls, and here she was, speaking to one of them! Yeah...right!

He showed her his signet ring, and she fell silent. So, he really was a Lord! And he wanted to "help" with her son. Well, well, well, if he was so daft as to think the boy was his, who was she to argue? Good Fortune was smiling on her at last!

The truth was, she knew who the father of her boy was...sort of. She remembered the events of that day, even if this daft earl didn't. After he and his goofy friend had dashed away, another man came strolling by, a sexy fast talker with bright blue eyes and a really nice build. He shared their meal of roast pig without having to lift a finger to help with the ditch. He'd entertained them with a story she hadn't believed...how he had almost lost his hand poaching, and how some unknown hooded gent had rescued him by shooting impossible shots with a curved bow. Years later, she realized his story must have been true, and her child's father must have been one of the first people ever rescued by the now famous "Robin Hood."

Her father had invited him to spend the night in their barn, and she had visited him there. The looks that had passed between them at dinner convinced her he was much more willing than the earlier hesitant stranger. He told her his name was "Tom," but she guessed he was spinning her a yarn, for she'd heard him tell her father it was "Allan." So, nine months later, when her son was born, she called him "Allan." She never expected to see the wandering stranger again, but she'd never expected to see this handsome dashing flying man, either.

"I'll tell you how you can help," she said, excited now by the prospect of Huntington's coffers at her disposal. "I want money, to pay for the keep of the boy."

"How much do you need?" Robin asked.

She named a figure, and wished she had asked for more when he readily agreed. "And," she added, hoping against hope, "I think it's time you took your turn raising him."

She almost fell over when she saw him smile. Not a disbelieving, "Like hell I will!" sort of smile, either. He wore a genuinely happy smile, as if he were glad of her suggestion.

"You mean you wouldn't be adverse to me taking him away from you? To Nottinghamshire, to live with me? How would he feel about that? I don't wish to turn his entire world upside down."

"Oh," she said hurredly, "You go right ahead. Believe me, he'll be glad of the change."

"And would you like for me to introduce him to your father, or would you prefer I didn't?"

"No. He don't need to know him. You just look after him, like a good dad." She wanted to laugh and cry and jump for joy.

"I'll do my best by him, I swear," Robin promised sincerely. "He'll have the best I can give him, short of my leaving him my properties. Those will go to my girls, and to any other heirs my wife bears me. But he'll never want for anything, I assure you. You have my word."

"Yeah, yeah," Sarah agreed. "Look! Here he comes now! You two get acquainted, while I go pack up his things."

...

Hours later, the boy Allan accompanied Robin and Much's families and servants as they traveled homeward. After what Marian had witnessed, she was in a tremendous hurry to get her little daughters away from the evil that was King John's Court, and back to the safety and wholesomeness of Locksley. She did not even wait for permission to go. By the time Robin returned to Westminster, everything was packed, the horses were saddled, and the carriage was ready. She didn't even question him bringing along the boy. She knew her husband well enough to have expected it.

Robin had already bought a child's bow with arrows for the boy, along with poppets for Ellen and Grace, and some brightly colored silks for Marian. Everyone else was confused by the boy's presence, especially Much, but the child seemed to take it all in stride.

While they stopped to allow the horses a chance to rest, Robin excitedly set up a makeshift target and gave the boy his first lesson in archery.

"Hold the bow just so," he instructed. "Good! Now, don't aim for the target...aim just above it. Pull back steadily, just so, and remember to take a breath first."

The arrow sailed so far over the target, it was nearly lost.

"Good effort," Robin encouraged. "This time, aim just a bit lower."

"Aw, do I have to?" the boy asked. "This is boring."

"Boring?" Robin couldn't believe his ears. Archery...boring?

"Much," Robin offered, "would you like to give Tweeks a try?"

"You teach him, Robin. You're Master of the Bow. Besides, you taught me."

While Robin tried to teach Tweeks to shoot, the boy Allan sauntered over to where Much and Marian were waiting. "Who wants to fire a bow, when you can do some real killing with a sword? What the hell's wrong with that gent's sword, anyway? It's all curved, just like his bow."

"First of all, young scallywag, you watch your language," Much lectured. "You are in decent company here, and if you think you can be a servant at Locksley and talk like a...like a...talk that way, you are sadly mistaken, I think you'll find!"

"I'm not going to be no servant."

"What? Well, even so...why are you coming home with us then?"

The boy shrugged his shoulders, and Marian looked away.

"Well," Much recovered, "there is nothing the matter with Lord Locksley's sword. It's supposed to be curved. For your information, Smart Mouth, he has plenty of broadswords, but that one is special."

Marian stepped closer. It was impossible getting Robin to discuss his years in battle, and she had always been curious about his beautiful scimitar. "Tell us, Lord Bonchurch," she requested.

It wasn't often that Much had such a captive audience. He began with gusto. "We were engaged in hand-to-hand combat...thousands of us in the baking desert sun. You have no idea how hot that sun can be through chain mail! Well, anyway, Robin plunged his broadsword through the body of a Saracen...you know, Marian, the sword he had inherited from his father, and before he could pull it out, he was knocked over from behind. I saw him trying to scramble away, and I saw this sword on the ground, dropped by a dead Saracen. Well, it wasn't any more use to a dead man, so I picked it up and tossed it to Robin, and he used it to kill the soldier who was trying to kill him, and many more before the battle was over."

"You saved his life, Much!"

"Yes, I did. And Robin immediately fell in love with that sword. It's lighter than a broadsword, you see, so you can swing it faster. Spoils of war, young man...spoils of war."

"Well, not bein' funny, but a broadsword's better." The boy began to laugh. "Ladies like a man with a big broadsword, don't they, your Ladyship?"

Much didn't pick up on the innuendo, but Marian did, and blushed.

"Little boy," she scolded, "your father's going to have to teach you some manners."

"Who's his father?" Much asked.

Marian couldn't bring herself to answer. The wound was still too fresh.

An excited whoop from Robin interrupted their conversation. "Marian, Marian, look at this!"

She looked over to see Robin, grinning ear to ear, with Ellen in his arms. Ellen held the bow, though it was too large for her. They were both pointing proudly to the target, which held a tiny arrow near its center.

"First shot, Marian!" Robin exclaimed. "First shot!"


	15. Chapter 15

Young Allan was trying his best to appreciate all the nice things Lord Robin and his family were trying to do for him, but they really got under his skin sometimes.

It was early afternoon on the Sabbath, and the family, including Allan, had celebrated Mass together in the Locksley village church. They had enjoyed a lovely dinner at home, and now, as was their custom, Marian was out enjoying a lone ride on Llamrei, while Robin held their little girls, one on each knee, and explained to them what the priest had been saying in church today. Allan could tell he was trying to include him in the discussion, but the child was none too interested.

"Father Bernard was speaking of John the Baptist. Do you remember who he was?"

"Little John?" Ellen asked. Grace was leaning against her daddy's chest, holding her new poppet, trying hard not to drowse off to sleep. Allan stood nearby, leaning against a pillar, listening. His face wore a scoffing expression.

"What do you know! They're both named 'John,' aren't they? You're a very smart girl, Ellie! But, no, this is a different John."

"Not King John," Ellen said.

"That's right, too. Not King John. No, John the Baptist lived a long long time ago, in the Holy Land. He was Jesus' cousin."

"Like Prince Arthur's our cousin, right, Daddy?"

"Right again, Boo. Well, John the Baptist lived in the wilderness-"

"Like you lived in the forest, Daddy?"

Robin grinned. "Sort of like that! And he told people to be kind, and good. He said you must share your food with people who are hungry, and, if you have two cloaks, you must give one away to the man who has none."

Allan spoke up. "Why would anybody do that?"

Robin was pleased the boy was showing some interest. It was obvious Sarah had woefully neglected his spiritual education. "Well," he began, "it's not an easy thing to do. But it's the right thing. Now, you don't need two cloaks, do you? All you need is one. And if your neighbor doesn't have any, he'll be cold come winter. So, if you give him one of yours, you'll both be warm. It's good and right to help our fellow man. If you were the one without a cloak, wouldn't you be thankful to the man who gave you one of his?"

"I'd think he was a bloomin' fool. He could sell the extra one and buy him something else, like a horse. Then he could ride off someplace warm, and not need any cloak at all."

"Mama would buy a horse, too, Daddy. I saw her looking at some horses for sale, and I could tell she wanted to buy a new one."

"Mama knows we already own a stable of fine horses. She might like to look at other horses, Boo, but she knows we shouldn't waste our money buying new ones we don't need."

"Are there people livin' around here what don't own a horse?" Allan asked.

"Yes. There are people WHO don't own any horses."

"Then, if you got more than one, why don't you do like that John the Baptist gent and give some away? Give your horses to those what don't have any."

Robin took a deep breath. "I would give all of my horses away, if someone needed them. As it is, no one has a need for one."

"Still doesn't sound fair. I think you talk one fine way, and live another."

This, of course, was completely unfair. Robin was the most generous man in England, who had once given up everything he had for others. But young Allan didn't know that.

"Well," Robin said, quietly, noticing that Grace had fallen asleep, "looks like Apple Blossom's out. Want to help me tuck her in, Boo?"

He hadn't meant to exclude Allan. It was just a routine he and Ellen had on Sundays.

Holding Grace against his chest in one arm, Robin hoisted Ellen onto his back, and he climbed the stairs, sandwiched between his two girls. Ellen enjoyed the ride, and was as quiet as a little mouse all the way up the stairs, so she wouldn't wake Gracie.

Allan watched them go, shaking his head. It wasn't that he didn't like living here, because he did. These people were really good and kind to him. He was never beaten, and he was living in style. It's just that he felt different, no matter how hard they tried to make him feel accepted.

For one thing, the young Robin Lord who was trying so hard to be nice to him had told him very strongly that he wasn't to swear anymore, period. The first day back in their home, Allan had taught little Ellie some choice words, and he thought it was hilarious when she had uttered them at dinner. When she had announced, "Damn good soup!" that old servant Thornton had dropped the soup tureen right on his foot, and uttered a few choice epitaphs himself.

Also, Lord Robin was really impressive and could do everything great, but what did he like teaching Allan to do? Shoot arrows! He thought shooting arrows was some great feat, and every day it wasn't raining, he took Allan outdoors to do it! It didn't help Alllan's enthusiasm that a three-year-old GIRL could shoot better than he could, either! And she seemed to love it! Oh, those two had such fun firing off arrow after arrow, like they were Robin Hood, or something!

While Allan was brooding, Lady Locksley entered the manor, fresh from her ride. Allan thought she looked mighty pretty, with her cheeks all flushed and her hair blown wild from the wind. Trying to tame her hair with her hands, she smiled at Allan, showing her dimples and her pretty little white teeth.

"Well, I feel better, and so does Llamrei!"

"That your horse's name, or your male friend's?"

"Pardon?" She looked surprised.

"Your horse's, or your male friend's? That name."

"Why, of course it's my horse's. From the stories. King Arthur had a horse called 'Llamrei.' Surely you've heard that."

He shook his head.

"Well, we must tell you all about him! But Lord Robin's the storyteller in this house, so maybe while we're delivering these parcels to the villagers, he can tell you all the exciting adventures. But, Alllan, why would you ask if I had a 'male friend'? What did you mean by that?"

"You go off by yourself, then come back all smilin' and red cheeked, with your hair all messy. I figured you'd either been on top of a horse, or on top of a man."

Marian took a deep, shocked breath. The poor boy had obviously witnessed much more than he ever should have seen. She hastily shook the image of his mother Sarah straddling Robin from her mind.

"I do not have a 'male friend,' Allan. At least not the kind you referred to. And it's inappropriate for you to speak of such things."

Just then, Robin and Ellen came down the stairs. Marian hugged and kissed her daughter, but gave Robin a cold cheek to kiss instead of the mouth he sought.

"Mattie's upstairs with Grace. Are you ready to go, or do you need a moment?" Robin sensed something had annoyed his wife.

"Let's go," she answered huffily.

"Good!" Robin began passing out bundles for each of them to carry, taking the heavy load himself.

"Where're we going?" Allan asked.

"We're making some rounds through the village. Every Sunday, we pass out food and clothing, visit the sick, see what we can do to help our serfs and villeins."

"Why?"

Robin put down the sack he was carrying and bent down to be at the boy's eyelevel. "To do what John the Baptist said in the lesson today. 'For every man there is a purpose he sets up in his life. Let yours be the doing of all good deeds.'"

"John the Baptist said that?"

"No. But it means the same thing."

Allan didn't get it. There was some pretty good things they were giving away. Yes, he just didn't get these people.

Well, tomorrow would be a lot more fun. Tomorrow was Lord Robin's birthday, and there was going to be a big party here. Allan was looking forward to it.


	16. Chapter 16

October 14, Robin's birthday, dawned fresh and clear, promising to be a lovely autumn day. The cock had crowed, and as Marian awoke, she could smell the aroma of freshly baked bread and hear the sounds of servants bustling about downstairs, preparing for the day. She also heard activity outside her windows, as the village prepared to celebrate the momentous event with a tremendous party.

She turned over in bed and smiled at her husband, still sleeping peacefully. She debated whether she should go get the girls, and have all three of them climb on him to wake him, or whether it should just be herself. When she heard him murmur her name lovingly in his sleep, her heart skipped a beat, and she opted for the second choice.

Sliding her arms around him, she squeezed him tightly, startling him awake, then laughed and said, "Happy Birthday, Handsome."

He grinned groggily, and raked one hand through his hair. "Have the jugglers arrived yet?"

Marian laughed again. "You just wait. And act surprised. Much will scold me if he knows I told."

…

Everyone in Locksley was having a wonderful time at the party. King John's crippling new policies and hefty taxations had not yet affected the shire, so no one worried about their futures today. Robin was basking in the love and affection of his villagers and neighboring friends, and was more than happy to be paying for this joyous celebration and abundant feast.

Old Elspeth had cornered Marian, and was making her queasy with stories about Puss, her cat. "It come out green, Puss's latest hairball, it did. Green as stagnant pond water, and twiced as smelly! Says I to Puss, 'What did you eat, my girl, to cough up such a treat, eh?' So, what do you think it might've been, Milady?"

"I really have no idea, Elspeth. Now, if you will please excuse me..."

"Grayish green it was, and big as my fist! Rancid, too, like I said. Are you hungry, Milady? Fine feast your handsome husband's providing us! Tee hee hee hee! Why, he was always such a good lad! I remember you two when you was wee tots, running about like wild children, you did. But so lovely with such lovely manners you two had, when you'd stand still long enough to be spoke to."

"It's nice to remember things like that on His Lordship's birthday, isn't it? And I'm pleased you thought our manners were good."

"They were indeed. Why, I even remember him running about naked once! Two years old he were, and running naked through the yard! Such a lovely little bum he had!"

Marian glanced around her to find an excuse to leave. Surprisingly, the excuse came in the form of Kate, who stomped to Marian and pulled her rudely away.

"What's the reason for him?" Kate asked, pointing to the boy Allan.

"Hello, Kate," Marian said pleasantly. "It's good to see you again, too."

"What's the reason for him?" Kate repeated.

Marian looked at Allan, who was playing with Will and Djaq's beautiful twins. Daniel and Saffia seemed quite taken with the boy, and Marian noticed Djaq watching him very closely.

"I think you'd better ask Robin yourself," Marian suggested, leaving Kate alone, and going to pay her respects to Djaq.

Kate ran to Robin, who was engaged in a men's foot race. She intercepted his path, and as he swerved to avoid her, he fell, injuring his ankle. Much, who enjoyed watching the race rather than participating, was quickly on the ground beside Robin, anxiously checking to see if he was alright.

"I'm fine, Much." Robin stood, wincing in pain, as he tried to put weight on his ankle.

"Will, fetch Djaq!" Much cried in alarm.

Will, who had been in first place when the race was interrupted, turned to head toward his wife, but she was already approaching. By this time, Marian was running toward them as well, her lovely blue eyes filled with concern.

"What's the reason for him?" Kate asked Robin, pointing again to the boy Allan.

Robin knew this would not be easy. He hadn't told anyone yet, besides Marian of course, of the boy's relationship to him. He dreaded Kate's unjustified anger, and Much's shock. But the time had come for honesty. He drew a deep breath.

"He's my son."

There was a shocked silence.

"Wha-wa-wa-who?" Much asked.

"My son." Robin turned his eyes from Much's startled and confused face, to Kate's, filled with indignant anger.

"Oh, Robin, surely not!" Much gasped, in disbelief. He looked to Marian, who nodded confirmation. "Who's his mother?" Much ran his memory back through the five possibilities Robin had philandered with as they returned home from war. He remembered each one of the hussies perfectly.

"No!" Kate began pounding her fists into Robin's chest. His ankle injury caused him to lose his balance, and he dropped to the dirt. Kate dropped down beside him, and continued her onslought of pummeling fists. Robin seized her wrists as carefully as he could, to get her to stop without hurting her.

Little John quickly came to Robin's defense. With one giant arm, he lifted Kate high into the air, and threatened to dunk her in Locksley Pond unless she stopped. When he was sure she wouldn't touch Robin again, he put her down. She angrily stomped away, back to her mother.

Much was taking an inventory aloud, and Marian was listening avidly. "Not Ursula...she had that vivid red hair. And it couldn't have been Marguerite or Ruth...they were too dark. So, it must be either Clorinda, or Gweneth. They were both blonds, remember, Robin?"

Robin shot Much an urgent look, and Will helped him out by telling Much to "shut up."

"Her name is 'Sarah,' Much," Marian said. "She's blond, as well. Very blond, very buxom, and very, very brazen."

"But not as cheap as Clorinda!" Much declared. "No one could be as cheap as Clorinda! Remember, Robin? She was the one who-"

"Shut up, Much!" Robin cried.

Meanwhile, Allan a Dale had arrived, and had watched Kate's attack with amusement. He sauntered over to Daniel and Saffia, his favorite children, and greeted the good looking new boy they were playing with. He didn't know why, but he liked the kid instantly.

Djaq was busily pressing her fingers into Robin's ankle, to access the injury. "Just twisted, but misinformed. You'll be fine," she smiled.

"Misinformed?" Much cried. "What do you mean, 'misinformed?' "

"Misinformed," she said wisely. "Robin, you cannot be that boy's father."

"How can you know that?" Robin asked.

"See for yourself," Djaq replied. She looked in the direction of the two Allans, one full grown and one small. Except for their size, their clothing, and the absence of facial hair on the small one, they were as much alike as two peas in a pod.

"Sarah!" Much suddenly realized. "The fuller's daughter! Oh, Robin, Djaq's right. Don't you remember? Her father fought with you the minute he spotted you kissing, and we ran away before anything else happened. We had to dig that massive ditch for nothing! That's right! No roast pig! You remember that, surely, Robin?"

Robin's eyes grew wide in realization as he remembered every detail of Much's story.

"Time for me to find out just how much Allan remembers," he said.


	17. Chapter 17

As Robin hobbled toward Allan a Dale, calling out his name, he was greeted by two pair of bright blue eyes, their wise cracking expressions nearly identical.

Djaq was correct, Robin mused. How could he have not noticed it before?

The adult Allan considered his friend. Robin wasn't wearing the relaxed grin he expected to see him wear on his birthday. In fact, the expression in his eyes was unusually grave. It couldn't be from his twisted ankle. Uh oh, Allan thought, how could Robin have heard about what happened this morning at the Trip so fast? Better start spinning a yarn.

"Look, I can explain. It was all a simple misunderstandin'. The gent was tryin' to cheat me, Robin. Surely, you can understand-"

"Come inside where we can talk," Robin invited compassionately.

As Allan supported Robin and walked with him toward Locksley Manor, he shot Marian an inquiring look. She quickly looked away, but his eyes had detected a look on her face first. He wasn't certain, but he thought it was a look of relief. This couldn't be about what had happened at the Trip this morning! Something else then. But what?

Upon entering the manor, Robin invited Allan to sit and partake in a cup of fine ale.

"Happy Birthday, by the way," Allan said, taking a big swig of the drink.

"Thank you." Robin paused, and perched himself on the edge of the dining table. "Allan, I need you to cast your mind back to the first day we met."

"Feelin' a bit sentimental on your birthday, are you?"

"No. I want you to try your best to remember the events of that day."

"Losin' your memory, now that you're gettin' so old?"

"This is serious, Allan! It concerns the boy you were just speaking to."

"That kid? Good lookin' boy, innit he? Smart mouth, though."

Robin took a deep breath. He knew this would not be easy, and Allan's lack of seriousness didn't help matters.

"Think back for just a moment. Do you remember trying to shoot a doe and getting caught, and me rescuing you?"

"Of course. And I'm grateful, Robin. I've told you before, haven't I, how grateful I am? Not to mention how you saved my life later, when the Sheriff tried to hang me!"

"This isn't about being grateful. I need you to remember...either before or after you tried to shoot that doe, did you meet a pretty blond lass named 'Sarah?' "

Allan grinned, a naughty gleam springing to his eye. "Now you're talkin'! Why didn't you say we were gonna talk about a lass?" He leaned back and stretched out his legs, propping his feet up on Robin's table. "Yeah, I remember her. She was something, alright! Why, do you know her?"

"I met her the same day you did."

"You're joking! You didn't...?"

"Almost, but her father caught us, and Much and I had to make a dash for it."

Allan laughed aloud. "You were the one who warmed her up for me! She told me there were two men who stopped and dug the ditch for her father, and one of them was goofy, and the other sexy. So, which one were you?" He laughed again.

Robin wasn't laughing. The child's welfare was at stake, not to mention Allan's future. He decided to try a different line of questioning.

"Allan, have you ever wondered whether you might have ever fathered a child?"

The confident grin on Allan's face faded away, as did most of the color from his cheeks. He sat up, lowering his feet to the floor. "What are you saying, Robin?"

"The boy you met today is Sarah's son."

"Whoa! That doesn't make me his father! She was hardly the Virgin Mary when I met her, Robin! You know her! You remember how bold she was! And, let me tell you, she knew some tricks I didn't even know then! She was a wild one, Robin! You should be sorry you ran away before you got to sample what I did!"

"Except for the fact that it might be me raising the boy, instead of you."

"Who said anything about raisin' the boy? What about her? If I'm his dad, and I'm not sayin' I am, then what makes me responsible all of a sudden?"

"You might not be. I...I met Sarah and the boy in London last week, and thought I might be his father, and Sarah asked me to raise the lad myself, so-"

"I thought you said you ran away before...which is it, Robin? I mean, get your stories straight."

Robin looked embarrassed. How to explain that he hadn't remembered his encounter with Sarah, when Allan, with so much more experience than he, and much less regard for women in general, had remembered Sarah perfectly? "I...didn't remember the details of our meeting," he stammered.

Allan laughed so hard he nearly fell off the chair. "That's priceless, that is! You didn't even remember if you did it or not? How many women've you been with, Robin? I mean, your whole life? Our illustrious Queen claims it hasn't been that many."

"How would she know?"

"Should I ask Marian? Or would Much have a better count? Oh, I forget, Lord Bonchurch can't count."

Allan was in a sour mood, and Robin's mood wasn't much better. For some unexplained reason, Robin was feeling a sense of loss.

He didn't have a son, after all. As much as the boy confounded him, he had grown fond of him. And he knew that Marian and the girls felt the same.

"You need to man up and do the right thing! He's a good lad, Allan," Robin said, returning to the subject he had brought Allan here to discuss. "He hasn't been raised well, but he's a good lad! He's clever, and funny, and kind hearted. He's good company. You'll like him!" Robin uttered a laugh. "He can even help you with your books! He helped me with mine. You won't believe how quick he is with figures."

"Do I look like I need any help, running my business?"

"Look, all I 'm suggesting is, get to know him first. He can stay here with me as long as...well, as long as he likes. But he deserves to know you. And you won't regret it, I swear."

Robin was looking at Allan with that sincere, appealing look he had. Allan knew that most people, men and women, had a difficult time resisting that look. But he was made of sterner stuff.

"Some fine party you're throwing, Robin," he said, gruffly.

"It's alright." Robin's tone was gentle. "You need some time, I realize. Just think about what I've said."

Allan shot Robin angry look, downed the remainder of his drink, and strode out of the manor to mount his horse and return to Nottingham.

Family was one thing Allan did not want. Family did nothing but hurt you, and for all his swagger, Allan was extremely vulnerable.


	18. Chapter 18

Marian closed her eyes and breathed in the scents of the night forest. Her overwhelming feelings of peace, joy, and love ecstatically filled her heart as she rode behind Robin on his horse. His final request on his birthday, thus far, anyway, was to share a horse with her on a moonlit ride through Sherwood.

They didn't speak at first, preferring just to savor the closeness and unity of being three in one.

After a time, Marian's curiosity led her to break the silence.

"I saw Allan ride off in a huff. I think I can assume he didn't take the news well."

"Give him time, my love. It came as quite a surprise."

"It came as quite a surprise to me, and I rose above it! How can he reject that darling boy?"

Robin smiled to himself. This attitude of hers was just one of the many reasons why he loved her so much. "He'll come around. These things can't be rushed. In the meantime, the boy is safe, and well looked after, and surrounded by a loving family."

He reined his horse and dismounted, taking care not to place his weight on his twisted ankle. Then, smiling romantically, he lifted Marian off his horse, holding her in his arms longer than was necessary.

"You need to put me down before you fall," she said, realizing how difficult it was to hold her by balancing on one foot.

"Just because I'm another year older doesn't mean I'm decrepit. I've still got a remnant of life left in me."

"Prove it."

"A challenge?" They were both smiling, their eyes fueled by passion.

Robin placed her on her feet and began kissing her mouth, softly at first, then with mounting urgency. His kiss made her dizzy and lightheaded and exhilarated, but still she craved more.

Clasped tightly together, their bodies dropped onto the forest floor. His twisted ankle was forgotten. As Robin's mouth burned tantalizing kisses up and down her jawline and throat, Marian gasped, "Robin, Robin, you didn't bring me out here to make love to me in the leaves!"

"There's been a change in plan." He smiled at her surprised expression. "We've done it before," he grinned.

"We didn't have a home then! We should go home, Robin."

"We should, but where would be the fun in that?"

The moonlight was glorious, and so was he. And...it was his birthday, after all.

...

The next morning, as the family breakfasted together, young Allan was talking about all the fun he had enjoyed yesterday at the party.

"Not bein' funny, but you should see the inside of Daniel and Saffia's cottage! They have a fountain inside their house! I'm serious! An actual fountain! And there's things carved everywhere! On the corners of places and things, you'll find a lion's face, or a bird! There's lots of birds carved there! I'll wager you could live there for years, and still not see everything!"

"Their father's a genius," Robin agreed. "Their mother, too, for that matter. So, you made some new friends? Good for you, Allan!"

"Yeah, and I met this really great gent, with the same name as me! What do you know? Allan a Dale, his name is! Runs his own tavern and everything!"

"You got along well?" Marian asked sweetly.

At that moment, Grace decided to turn her bowl upside down on her head. "Me! Me! Look at me!" she gurgled, her breakfast dripping down her face.

When Allan began laughing, Ellen laughed, too. "Look at Gracie's new bonnet!"

Robin was amused, but Marian felt annoyed. Her baby had already taken her bath, and now would need another one. Marian knew how Mattie would frown.

Nevertheless, Marian rose from the table and efficiently removed the bowl from Grace's head, and placed her child on her hip, being sure to keep her messy sticky head safely away from her own fresh bodice. "No, no, Grace," she scolded. "We do not wear our food. I never want to see you do that again, do you understand?" Turning to Robin, she said, "You're not helping by laughing, you know."

They were interrupted by Thornton, who entered the room with a missive in his hand.

"Pardon me, Master, for the interruption. A messenger has just delivered this. He is waiting outdoors for your response."

"What is it?" Marian wondered, still balancing a wiggling gooey Grace on her hip.

"The Royal Seal," Robin frowned. "Thornton, invite the messenger in, and see that Ian attends to his horse. We don't want to be inhospitable." He looked toward Marian, then broke the seal and heaved a sigh as he read its contents.

"Looks like we're all returning to Court," he said.

"To Court? No! Why?" Marian wanted to stay as far away from King John's depraved Court as possible.

"It appears we departed without first securing permission for you to go."

"That's ridiculous! How can they give you permission, but not me? Don't they know we stay together? They are fools."

The messenger entered, overhearing Lady Locksley calling the King and Queen "fools." Didn't that constitute treason?

Lord Locksley rose from the table, though he appeared to be favoring one leg over the other.

"Please, have a seat." He welcomed the messenger as if he were a dearly departed friend. "Can we offer you some food or drink?"

The messenger was served, and couldn't help but be charmed by the beautiful family surrounding him. Funny, he never realized Locksley had a son.

The boy was curious. "So, you rode all the way here, just to deliver that little note?"

"Yes, My Lord. It is my duty."

"I'm not no 'lord,' but it sure sounds good, you sayin' it!"

Mattie arrived to take Grace upstairs to be bathed. Grace objected as loudly as possible about missing all the fun.

At that moment, Much bounded into the hall. "Your baby's wailing again," he told Marian.

"She doesn't wail!"

"Please! Oh, who is this?"

"Lord Bonchurch, I am a messenger from His Majesty. I have delivered the King's message to the Earl of Huntington, and await his response."

Much smiled. "You do have a nice way of speaking, doesn't he, Robin? Formal, but not stuffy! I like that!"

"We're required to return to Court, Much," Robin told his friend.

"To Court? But, but, but, but, we just came from there! Unbelieveable!"

"Well, we're going back. I'll tell the servants to start packing." Robin excused himself and Much followed him from the table.

"Robin, I'll come, too."

"You don't need to come, Much."

"I want to, Robin."

Robin smiled. It was selfish of him, he knew, but he wanted Much to come along. "Good. You'd better go home and get packed, as well."

They looked up to see Allan a Dale hesitantly enter the Manor. He looked as if he hadn't slept all night.

"I've come to get acquainted, like you said, Robin. Where's the boy?"

Robin clasped Allan's hand and shoulder. "How do you feel about journeying south with us? Can you get away for a time? I can't think of a better way to get to know your son."

"Well, just like the swallows, I figure I can fly south for the winter. When do we leave?"

Before Robin could answer, Little John lumbered toward them. "This, I do not like," he complained.

"What, John?" Robin asked, enjoying so many of his former gang all coming together in his home this morning.

"Him." Little John pointed to the messenger. "He says Queen Eleanor wants me to travel with you."

The other three men grinned at John. "The Queen Mother fancies you, Big Bear!" Much joked.

"This, I do not like," John repeated gruffly.


	19. Chapter 19

"Locksley...Lady Miriam...you have returned at last! Of course, you never should have left us in the first place! Not that we need you here, Locksley, but Miriam! Your lovely presence is required to enrich our Court! Our royal eyes have missed the sight of your face, your hair, your breasts! Such round full breasts, waiting for me to place my magnificent royal person on them! And, Locksley, we see you've brought 'Pudgy' along! Never can travel anywhere without him, can you? Tell me, does he even join you in the privy? Ooh! Or even in the marriage bed!"

Robin, Marian, and Much bowed before King John and Queen Isabella, who were seated upon their thrones in the White Tower. The three former outlaws' postures showed respect, but their bowed faces betrayed how they really felt.

Much to Lord Bonchurch's dismay, the King had moved his London residence to the Tower, and Much hated the Tower. He was thoroughly convinced it was haunted, and he almost regretted his decision to accompany Robin with Tweeks back to Court. Almost, but not quite. He still felt Robin needed him. He had once overcome a female ghost within these walls years ago, and he could do it again, if required. But hearing King John call him "Pudgy" made him thoroughly nervous.

Marian hated listening to the King's spoiled voice openly mention parts of her anatomy she didn't think were proper to discuss. She hated being here, period. She wondered how Isabella was enjoying being Queen, now that she knew just how treacherous King John could be. Of course, Marian felt Isabella was plenty treacherous herself. Still, the sight of Surrey's body swinging above the Queen's bed was still fresh in Marian's mind, and surely Isabella must worry what else her husband might be capable of. The Queen's proud face betrayed no signs of intimidation, however.

And of course, Robin was outraged by the King's mockery of Much, but mostly by his lewd insinuations about Marian.

"Bored now," the King whined. "Go...do whatever it is you do. Shoot arrows at passing pigeons, or passing children...I don't care! Just take your pretty little smug face out of my sight!"

Robin rose and took Marian's arm, but the King stopped them. "Not her, Locksley! I could never be bored by her! You go...Miriam stays! Oh, and I want Pudgy, too, for old times' sake."

"Go," Marian whispered into Robin's angry face. "We'll be fine."

He nodded, and strode from the room. He knew Much and Marian were safe for now in the well populated Great Hall.

Stepping outdoors onto Tower Green, he was pleased to meet Prince Arthur. "Your Highness," he smiled as he bowed.

"Well met, Cousin," the young Prince said. "I thought you'd disappeared to Locksley."

"I had. But it seems we broke protocol by assuming that if I was cleared to go, the whole family would be, too. So, here we are, back in London again."

"Well, I, for one, am glad." The Prince's face did not reflect the carefree attittude his words seemed to convey. He appeared strained, and nervous.

"Is everything alright, Your Highness?" Robin asked.

Prince Arthur hesitated. When at last he spoke, his voice was a whisper. "Can you come to my chambers, in private? I am sorely afraid, and I need your help. Take care not to be seen." Without another word, he turned and walked away.

Robin knew better than to stare after him. He turned and faced the opposite direction, chewing at his bottom lip thoughtfully.

...

Meanwhile, just across the river and slightly to the west, young Allan was escorting his father, Allan a Dale, to meet his mother Sarah. Surprisingly, Will Scarlet was accompanying them.

When Will saw his friends all preparing to leave Locksley, he'd asked Robin where they were going. He and Djaq had often wanted to broaden their children's minds by taking them to London, but they'd never had the opportunity. But now, here were all their best friends, travelling together under Robin's protection, and they longed to join in, too. And, of course, the others embraced the idea. And so, Will and Djaq and Daniel and Saffia had journeyed along with the others.

The trip south had been delightful. It was wonderful to all be together again, without danger or deprivation, and to watch their children play together.

And now, in London, Will's eyes were admiring the unusual buildings and interesting architecture all around him. His brilliant mind was analyzing and storing images, just as it had done in the Holy Land, so that he could create and perfect new designs.

As for Allan, he also looked about him with interest. This place was something like! It was fairly bursting with people! And he had thought Nottingham busy! Well, he wouldn't think so any longer. A gent could make a killing opening a tavern here, that is, if he had a bit of sense. He pushed his way through the throng of people, following his son toward the great London Bridge.

Allan was comfortable now, recognizing that the boy was, indeed, his son. There was no denying it. They were so much alike, in looks, in character, in personality, that Allan sometimes felt he was looking into a mirror.

Robin had been right. The boy was good company, and Allan didn't regret getting to know him for a moment. If he didn't get much opportunity to see him during the day, Allan found he missed the lad. No doubt about it, the kid had a way of growing on a fellow. And it gave him a warm feeling he'd never felt before to see the lad play with Will and Djaq's beautiful twins, Robin's two cute little button nosed girls, and Much and Eve's chubby son, Tweeks.

Allan especially had to laugh when he noticed how much Tweeks grated on the young Allan's nerves, and vice versa. "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree," Allan said with pride. Now, if only "Little Little John" could be found and join them, the second generation of "Robin Hood" would be complete.

"There she is!" The boy pointed out his mother Sarah, standing behind a table in a stall, flirting with a burly male customer.

"Yeah, I remember her, alright," Allan said, wetting his lips. She looked as provocative as he remembered. Maybe he could sample her wears again!

Sarah glanced their way, and her face fell. What the hell? She thought she'd gotten rid of the little brat! What was he doing back in London?

"What happened?" she asked, when they were close enough for conversation. "That daft earl figure out he hadn't dipped his silver spoon into the brass kettle after all?"

Allan a Dale had to laugh at that. "Good one!" he said approvingly. "Remember me?"

"Hello, Tom," she said knowingly. "When did you turn up? This just gets better and better, don't it?"

"Who's 'Tom?' " asked the boy. "This gent's name's 'Allan,' same as mine."

"That's because I named you after him, dumb cluck! He's your father, in case you're interested. What happened to Huntington, by the way? He run off again? Hope he treated your eyes to a backflip, like he done mine. That's about all he treated me to, that and a few kisses, and me getting to feel up his tight little bum for a few minutes. Oh, yeah, and I can't forget the money he give me last time he were here. How you like my new rags? Don't I just look like a Countess? I figured if you was to be raised by a earl, and dressed up like one, then I oughtta be able to dress the part as well."

She spun around, showing off her gaudy gown. The grown Allan appreciated the peek of leg he got as her vivid skirts fanned out while she twirled.

Will Scarlet had given her a hasty glance, but his eyes were far more intrigued by the marvelous design of the great stone bridge.

"Yeah, well," Allan a Dale began, "the daft earl is the one who suggested I come see you in the first place. He told me you agreed he should raise your son, but now that we figured out he's mine, I need to ask your leave to see if you'd mind me raisin' him instead."

"You go right ahead and be my guest. Now, don't you be no trouble, Allan, 'cause I'm not taking you back, no matter what! I was sick with you within me for nine months, and sick of you without me these last seven and a half years. It's time I enjoyed myself again! Time your father took a turn raisin' you. Good luck, Tom," she said saucily.

"Well, that's settled then," Allan a Dale said. "Come on, Allan...Will...let's get outta here and go somewhere we can get us some decent food. The meat pies here aren't so temptin' as I thought."


	20. Chapter 20

On his way to Prince Arthur's chambers, Robin was intercepted by Queen Isabella, who surprised him by stepping from a shadowy corner. Finding himself alone with her in a secluded dark corridor, Robin figured this could only mean trouble. He half expected her to put him in some compromising position, and then find Marian mysteriously appear to misread the situation.

"Good! I'm so glad I found you!" Isabella's breath escaped in short little pants.

"Now, what makes you think I want to talk with you alone in the shadows like this?"

Isabella knew Robin had no interest in any woman save his wife. But she also knew he loved danger, and if he never gave her a passing thought, she knew he still couldn't help but enjoy this dangerous game standing face to face with her.

"You are being awfully familiar with your Queen, Locksley!"

"Which is it, Isabella? The last time we spoke, you said I was too formal, I believe."

"Is it not a woman's prerogative to change her mind?"

"And yours changes as regularly as the moon. What do you believe in, Isabella? Besides yourself, of course. Or is that all?"

"I believe," she answered in a low, husky, whisper, "that you and I share an attraction for one another that has never been satisfied."

"No." He shook his head and laughed scathingly, but she could tell he was somewhat enjoying this sparring match.

"By 'no,' do you mean you feel no grain of attraction toward me, or that you were satisfied? Because, I recall you achieving satisfaction, but you left me only wanting more."

"Go take your satisfaction from your husband. That's his duty, more's the pity for him."

"That was entirely rude and disrespectful, Robin. And I know you can't really feel that way. Think of the danger involved, were you to become involved with me! Your life has been so safe these past few years! Haven't you been just the least bit bored by it?"

"If you think me bored, you don't know my wife. Or my girls." He had to smile, remembering Ellen's last shot and Grace's latest antic.

"I do know your wife. And I know you're still smitten by her, like some love struck schoolboy. I've given up trying to compete with her. I'm just saying you might relish the challenge of a tryst with danger."

"And what about my marriage vows? You don't know me at all if you think I don't cherish those. Even if I were tempted, which I'm not, I'd sooner die than hurt Marian. So, Your Majesty," his voice was mocking, "I suggest you move on. And speaking of being bored, haven't we had this conversation more times than I can count? Goodbye, Isabella."

He turned and began walking away, trying his best to block out her voice's strident tones as it followed him.

"You forget your place, Locksley! I am your Queen! You have not been dismissed!"

When he was out of sight, Isabella shuddered in anger and vowed, "I'll get you, Robin. If it's the last thing I do, I will make you pay."

...

When Robin was certain he was out of her sight, he stopped and leaned his body against a wall, exhaling in one long deep breath. He wished he'd never set eyes on her. He was so tired of her frequent attempts to seduce him, having no desire for her or her games. Yet somehow he found himself playing along by sending her mixed signals, which only served to keep the game going.

It had nothing to do with her, physically attractive though she was. He was not tempted by the woman. She was right...it was only the danger that intrigued him, that and the challenge of engaging in verbal battle with her.

He was anything but bored with his life, as she had tried to implicate. Living in the forest...now that had frequently been boring! But his life now was so full, so rich, so abundant, he fell into bed tired and happy and fully satisfied night after night.

And thinking on satisfaction...a woman like Isabella could never understand what Marian meant to him. He didn't even know whether Marian herself could fully understand the depth of his feelings, though he tried his hardest to make her see. Every time he made love to her, and they made love with alarming frequency, he felt transported. He couldn't get close enough. He couldn't contain his wonderment of her, or his passion, or his vulnerability. He strove to please her, and those exquisite moments, when their bodies clove together in perfect waves of ascending rapture, were more glorious than any fleeting sexual release he had experienced in the past, which had left him somewhat pleased with himself, but empty and disappointed overall.

His very nature fashioned him to be a person who thrived on loving and being loved. Combining that with the fact that he had lost both parents at a young age, his need for love was one of the most overpowering things about him. Much understood that better than Robin did himself, and Marian had come to understand it as well. His little family filled him up and gave him everything he had ever wanted.

On top of that, his villagers were well. Thriving, even, under his care. Happy and healthy and able to fulfill the needs of themselves and their families.

But now, someone else needed him. Making certain he was not being followed, Robin wound his way to Prince Arthur's chambers, wondering what loomed so threateningly over the youth's head.

...

"Thank you for coming. As I said before, I'm so glad you have returned."

The Prince paced the floor, barely looking at Robin. He was clearly frightened out of his wits, and ashamed of himself for being so.

"I've no wish to show myself a coward, but I am afraid, nevertheless."

"Tell me what frightens you," Robin said with concern.

Prince Arthur looked up, his eyes wide with fear. "My Uncle, the King...he means to kill me!"

"He cannot," Robin stated, anger invading him. He hated King John, and always had. The King's outward silliness masked a deep seated cruelty, a state of mental unbalance and avarice second to none.

"My dreams are full of him, injuring me most foully."

"Dreams can do no harm," Robin lied, seeking to provide comfort. Yet he knew the colorlessness in his voice undermined the hope he wanted his words to convey.

Dreams could harm you, Robin knew. He knew that better than Arthur did. Thankfully, his precious daughter had not suffered from a nightmare since he'd begun teaching her to shoot. It was almost as if she felt protected now that she could fire a bow, and he prayed she would be free forever, unlike himself. He knew only death would free him from the nighttime horrors that continued to plague him, though much less frequently than they had in the past.

Richard had not meant to be so brutally cruel, he knew it! The late King had to command what he had ordered, and, as a loyal subject and soldier, Robin had no choice but to obey. It was retaliation for Saladin's massacre of the Templars at Hattin; it was reprisals for the sufferings of the Christians at Acre; it was necessary warfare so that the Saracens would not live to fight the Christians another day. Yet Robin still could not block out the atrocities he committed by following the orders of his King and helping to butcher nearly 3000 unarmed Saracen captives following the siege of Acre. Just because Saladin had not kept his word! No! It had been necessary, he reminded himself again.

It didn't matter now. It made no difference. These were the deeds he could never be free of, no matter how many times he sought absolution from his sins. No matter how many times Marian pleaded with him to tell her. No matter how much good he tried to do to cover up the blood on his hands, blood that seeped into his soul and tainted his dreams when his thoughts could not be controlled.

But he wasn't sleeping now. He was awake...he forced himself to control his thoughts. He pushed down the horrific images in his mind and buried them once again in his subconscious. Pale and hollow eyed, he turned to Prince Arthur and refocused his attention.

"I do not seek the throne, Cousin, but...there are many who wish me King. Stories abound that the legendary Arthur has returned to restore England to her days of glory. To them, I am Arthur incarnate...not Arthur Plantagenet!"

"Do they plot to remove John from the throne, or is it all talk?"

"I do not know. I do not walk amongst them."

Robin mused. John deserved to be removed, but Robin would never sanction it. Treason was treason, and Robin was clever enough to think of other ways the King could be made to follow the laws of the land.

"So, you feel the King suspects you, or at least sees you as a threat. Either way, you feel yourself in danger. You're probably wise to think so, knowing the King. So, I propose, we get you out of England, away from the King, and back to the safety of Brittany."

"Yes. Could you? Could you, please? My sister needs to come, too. I fear for her safety as well."

"It seems simple enough. And, I have brought some friends along who can help!"

Robin's eyes had changed from empty soulless ones when he had spoken of dreams, to bright sparkling ones, dancing with expectation. Arthur felt better already.

"Thank you! I knew I could count on you...Robin Hood."

Robin laughed. "Never fear. I just happen to have brought the entire gang, along with some very small but mighty reinforcements."


	21. Chapter 21

"Come closer, my dear. Don't be afraid."

Marian was anything but afraid. Repelled by the King, but certainly not afraid. All the same, she had little choice but to obey. She stepped closer to John's throne.

Much stood nearby, anxiously shuffling his feet. This scene was too reminiscent of the time the King had forced him to wear a jester costume and a dog collar and leash, and serve as the royal dog, "Pudgy." The King noticed his discomfort, and relished it.

"Life can be so unfair, can it not?" King John spoke in a wheedling voice, and Marian wanted to tell him, that if life seemed unfair, it was he who made it so, for most of his people. But he continued his whining, all the while leering at her, undressing her with his eyes.

"Take me, for instance. Oh, yes, do, please! But I speak of serious matters first. Grave matters, Miriam, my sweet. I have been cursed in my choice of wives! Yes...cursed!" He leaned back in his throne, warming to his subject, oblivious that Marian wasn't saying a word, but was only staring at him, her lovely eyes filled with scorn.

"My first wife, Isabella of Gloucester, was a dud, entirely unsuited to mate with my magnificent self! Wealthy, at least! I did so enjoy spending her dowry! But what good is money, when it runs out? All you're left with is an empty purse! She gave me no heir to carry on my illustrious lineage! And so, when I at last became King, as was my Destiny, I thought to do my duty to my people, and marry again! But who did Fate see fit to pair me with? Another Isabella of another 'G,' this time 'Gisbourne!' And, can you believe it...she's barren as well! I shall get no heirs off that barren bitch!"

Marian openly cringed. There was certainly no love lost between her and the Queen, but to hear the King call his wife such names in public was unfathomable. She expected to hear an angry peasant throw out such abuse, if he happened to be drunk, or one of the Nottingham Castle Guard, who were known for their uncivilized ways, but a king? It was counter to everything she believed a man of noble birth should be.

"At least no one can blame me for my lack of an heir! You know that, too, don't you, my dear? You know I have fathered numerous bastards! Why, even Hawkies, the Laundress, for God's sake, has done better than either Queen, and borne me a daughter, useless though that is. But I have sons, too, Miriam, which is more than Locksley has!"

Marian had to look away. She couldn't contain her anger, hearing the King openly discuss his private life, with his disgusting opinions. To call his child "useless," because she was a daughter, ate at her, as if he were devalueing her own little girls for their sex. But the King had stopped speaking and was staring at her, his eyes hard and unflinching.

"You're not attending me, Miriam! Why are you not attending me? By God, you will pay attention when your King speaks!"

"Forgive me, Sire. You were saying...?"

He pouted a while longer, then let it go. There would be time to punish her later...when he'd gotten her at last in his bed. Ah! The coupling of pain and pleasure would be something quite new to her, he was certain! His wife was so used to it, apparently having experienced it for years with her first husband, that its novelty had long ago worn off. She just grimly took it, which was no fun for John at all! But Miriam would be different! Miriam would not be expecting it! Such sport! But back to the subject at hand.

"Where was I? Oh, yes! I need a new wife, for the sake of the Kingdom, you understand. The Kingdom must have heirs! Otherwise, the people will want... Never mind," he said grimly.

"Do you think you can change wives, as readily as you change your shirt, Sire?" Marian asked.

"I can do whatever I please! What's the point in being King, if I can't do to suit myself? God, Woman, you're as bad as one of my ancient dour faced counsellors!"

Isabella of Angloumene had entered the Hall by this time. The girl did not even bow to the King, but simply strutted forward and climbed onto his lap. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she turned her sullen face toward a surprised Marian.

The King turned his spoiled face toward Marian, smiling triumphantly. "You see, I plan to do my duty to my people! Much as it pains me to have to cast aside my beloved wife, I shall marry again, to beget heirs! Oh, yes, Miriam, the Queen's days are numbered!" He smiled at the girl on his lap. "Would it please you, my dear, to change places with your mistress? Would it not be fun to have her be your servant, for a change? Such sport! Miriam, you are dismissed! And take Pudgy with you...take him outdoors, before he lifts his leg and soils my royal furnishings! Adieu, as it were."

...

"He is revolting!"

Much was clearly distraught as he wound his way with Marian toward her chambers in the Tower. He really didn't want to enter her chambers. In fact, he really, really, really, didn't want to enter her chambers. These were Robin's rooms...the same where he had always dwelt when residing within these walls...the very same where Much had been groped by the amorous female ghost one dreadful night so many years ago.

Marian almost had to push him into her rooms. She knew of his fear, but Robin had thought it best not to explain the details behind it. They were both surprised now to see the servants packing some of her things.

"What is going on?" she asked. "Why are you packing?"

She pushed open the door to her daughters' room, to find Robin sitting in a chair, holding both girls on his lap. Grace appeared to be asleep, or nearly so, as Robin spoke in a quiet voice, telling Ellen a story. Both his eyes and Ellen's signaled Marian to remain quiet, so as to not awaken the baby.

"Nearly there," he said quietly, indicating Grace with a nod of his head.

"She's out." Marian lifted her sleeping daughter from his arms and gently laid her in a bed, tenderly pressing her lips to the top of her head first, and breathing in the baby's fresh scent.

"You need to rest today, too, Ellie," Robin said.

"But, Daddy, I don't need a nap! I'm not tired!"

"No 'buts.' We're all going to be up late tonight."

"What is going on?" Marian asked again.

As Robin led Marian to their outer chamber, to join a jumpy Much, he told them, "Soon as it's dark, we head south, to the coast. We have got to get Arthur out of here."


	22. Chapter 22

As day gave way to evening, Much, Marian, and Little John, who were all lodged in the Tower, met with Will, Djaq, and Allan, who were lodging in The Tabard, a nearby inn. They met in a crowded ale house, so as to not attract attention. Robin remained in the Tower, carrying out his part in his plan to rescue the Prince and Princess.

"Right, lads," Much began proudly, "work to do." He had always wanted to say that!

"Work?" Allan asked. "Not bein' funny, but the only work I plan on doin' tonight doesn't involve you lot."

"Shut up!" Much was extremely pleased with himself. He'd been wanting to say that to Allan for years. This really was a night for saying things. The danger would come later, and Much was dreading it. And so, for now, he said whatever he had always wanted to say.

"We've got a mission, lads," Much resumed. "Robin told me his plan, and put me in charge! Well, in charge of telling you his plan. So, I hope I can remember it! Let me think...yes! I need to think!" Much was glad to say that, as well. He so enjoyed imitating his friend! It made him feel...well, brave and dashing! But...what was the plan again? Oh yes!

"We need to disguise the Prince and Princess, and get them safely to the coast and on a boat to Brittany. Their lives are in danger. Who's with me?" Didn't he sound just like Robin? He looked to see whether Marian was impressed, and noticed his other friends exchanging amused glances.

"Oi, this is serious! It's Robin's plan, I tell you!"

"That'll be right," Little John grumbled.

"It is! It is right! Robin told me!"

"Why are their lives in danger, Much?" Djaq, at least, was kind, even if she wasn't buying Much's words.

"Because...because...help me out here, Marian!"

"Because the King feels threatened by Arthur's presence. Because he believes the people would rather Arthur be King."

The others were silent. Of course, the people would rather have Arthur as King! Not a single one of them would have chosen John over Arthur! And now, King John felt so threatened that he wanted Arthur dead? And Princess Eleanor, too? Much was correct...this was serious!

"I'm in," Will stated.

"Me, too." Djaq readily joined her husband.

Little John and Allan quickly agreed to help, and Much was relieved. He had done it! Robin would be proud!

...

Robin quietly snuck through the castle toward Prince Arthur's rooms. To his chagrin, who should step from the shadows and face him, in the identical spot she had earlier this very day, but Queen Isabella? Did she lurk here all the time, in wait for him? It was too much! He had a job to do, and wouldn't waste his time even bidding her good evening. He threw her a cocky smile and walked right past her.

"Stop!" she called.

He did not.

"You will obey your Queen." Her tone was icy, and it stopped Robin in his tracks. It wouldn't do to have her scream for her guards. Although he hadn't the time to spare, he had to humor her.

"Good evening, Isabella," he smiled jauntily. "We both seem to take the same walks, don't we?"

"You won't find what you're looking for tonight, Robin" she said mysteriously. "I wonder whether I will."

"Now, what makes you think I'm looking for something?"

"I know what you're looking for, and I'm telling you, it's gone. So," she sidled closer to him and put her hand against his chest, "why waste your time? Give me what I'm looking for, and maybe I'll help you find whom you seek."

She had said, "whom," not "what." He wondered how much she knew. Was she bluffing? How could she know? She had to be bluffing.

"I'm not looking for anything, especially not an encounter with you." He started to walk away, then turned and threw out a parting shot. "You need to finally understand the reason I was such an unsatisfactory lover to you, Isabella. You see, I realized immediately what a mistake I was making, so I rushed through it to get it over as quickly as possible. So, now that you know the truth, can you finally put it to bed?"

"Go to Hell," Isabella hissed. Quick as lightening, she ran towards him, pulling out a knife and slicing at his neck.

Robin's catlike reflexes helped him to move away, but she had scratched his flesh. His hand flew to his throat. Although he felt his blood, he only chuckled with scorn. "You will have to do better than that if you want me dead."

"How can you be so sure?" she asked, her voice dripping with triumph. "You need to be more careful, Robin. This blade might be rusty...or worse."

He shook his head and laughed at her, as if she were the most pathetic creature he had ever seen. "It's a scratch! Goodnight, Isabella," he said, before turning and running down the corridor.

"Goodbye, Robin," she gloated. "Forever!"

...

Prince Arthur, bound and gagged, was locked in a dungeon cell within the Tower. His sister, Princess Eleanor, was enroute to a distant castle, where she would be held captive until King John decided what to do with her.

The King sat upon his throne, gloating. He had taken care of his problem, once and for all. He was a magnificent Monarch! Soon, Arthur would be rendered useless, and none of the misguided wretched little citizens would want him any more. After all, who would want a blind and castrated boy to be their ruler?

Instead, the people would love him, John, their benevolent and rightful King! If they were displeased with him, it was all due to the Queen. Well, he'd be rid of her, as well, and put his young delectable Isabella of Angloumene in her place. She would give him heirs, and the throne would be secure! And, once again, he wouldn't even need to replace the royal monogramed towels!

...

(NOTE: I realize that bit about John's plans for Arthur was disgusting, but that is actual historical fact. John captured Arthur, and plotted to have him blinded and castrated.)


	23. Chapter 23

"Where is he? He told us not to be late! Where can he be?"

Much was pacing the floor of the Tabard Inn, wringing his hands, waiting for a Robin who had not shown up when he had said he would.

Marian's face was pale as well. Although she wasn't saying anything, she was just as worried as Much.

"Probably just running behind," Allan said. "You know how he's always late."

"I knew we shouldn't have left him alone in the Tower! I knew it!"

"This, I do not like."

"We need to go back to the Tower and rescue him!" Much was frantic with worry.

"We do not know that he needs rescuing, Much." Djaq was concerned about the lack of color on Marian's face. It was draining away as they spoke.

"Let's split up," Will suggested. "Some of us stay here, in case he shows up, and others, go to the Tower."

"I'm going!" Much proclaimed.

"I'm going, too," Marian stated.

Djaq thought she had better remain with Marian, in case she needed medical assistance. She looked faint, and Djaq wondered whether there might be more behind her merely being distraught. Besides, they needed either her or Will's level head to balance Much's emotion. "I'll go with them."

"Good." Will kissed his wife. "John, I think you should go, too." They needed his strength, just in case.

"We go...to the Tower!"

...

Robin lay on the floor in Prince Arthur's chambers, doubled over in pain, his mind dazed and wandering. Where was Arthur? And Eleanor? Ellen gone? Ellie captured by Gisbourne? No! He had to get her out of the chest! There! She was safe! And now, he needed to shoot Gisbourne himself, to spare Marian from having to do it! It was too big a burden for her to carry. It was his place, to protect her. He'd promised her father he would protect and look after her.

He rolled onto his stomach, his guts churning, the taste of sand in his mouth making him wretch. Sand, gritting his teeth, mixed with the metallic taste of blood. His blood? Or someone else's? Saracen blood. Blood that splattered on him, as he hacked them to bits with his beautiful scimitar. It was better to shoot. He could kill a man from a thousand yards, and the man would die instantly. No butchery. No pain. It was better.

The sun was baking him alive in his chain mail, as he lay in the sand, but he couldn't move. He heard foreign tongues praising Allah all around him, as he felt his fellow soldiers falling beside him. He struggled to rise. Where was Much? He had to save him! He felt a hand grip a fistful of his hair and pull back his head. They were going to slit his throat! A single slice to his throat would kill him! No! He had to save Much! He heard Much's voice pleading with him to be alright.

He saw the Saracen! She would kill him! She? Women didn't kill. Women didn't slice your throat with a knife...a knife dipped in poison. Women were soft and sweet smelling and gentle, like his mother. And all those things, as well as being bold and brave and beautiful, like Marian.

Lovely, alluring, kind and compassionate Marian. He was so proud of her...so beautiful, great with child. He was lying beside her in their bed, his hand on her expanding belly, marveling at the life moving within her. It was mysterious, and wonderful. She couldn't get comfortable, poor little Wren, but she didn't complain. He'd do anything to ease her discomfort. And then her pains began, and he had to ride as hard as he could for Matilda, who had delivered him, right in this very same bed.

He was waiting downstairs, helplessly, hour upon hour, while Marian screamed in pain upstairs, in the same bed where he had made her cry aloud in pleasure only months before. Much was waiting with him, calmer than he, for once. Much was an old hand at this...being a father. Odd to think of Much as a father. Much was only seven, with his nose constantly running, and his family struggling with the mill. Robin was in trouble for giving him half his clothing, but Much had been cold! And once he had cried from hunger, but Robin vowed never to let that happen again. And Marian was crying now, but Robin couldn't stop her pain. He had caused it. He felt so badly for her...he wanted to kill the pain. He wanted to hack it to bits with his sword, until it lay in broken bloody pieces at his feet.

He took her pain upon himself as she struggled to bring forth the new life within her. It ripped through him, wracking his body. He wanted to scream aloud with Marian, but couldn't. She was here now, helping him.

"I knew I would find you again," he whispered hoarsely.

"Shh, be still, my love." She shushed him, as he had shushed her in the cave. "These might be my last words," he croaked, echoing her own. "I love you. I should have told you before."

Her gentle hands pushed back his hair from his forehead. She smelled like roses, but he stank of the forest. He needed to bathe more often, now that she was living in Sherwood with them. She missed her father, and cried softly in her bunk at night. Her father...he had found the Pact. Robin had been with him when he died. Just like Marian was with him now. Was he dying? Had Gisbourne killed him? Gisbourne, smaller, more feminine...a woman.

"Drink this." Djaq was pouring something down his throat. It would make him appear dead, and Carter would give him the antidote, and he hoped the antidote would revive him, so they could get the money and help the poor. There was never enough money for the poor. They froze and starved and went shoeless, and cried aloud for Robin Hood. He did what he could, he and his lads. But it was never enough.

He could hear Much crying. Was he getting married? Was he tied to a pole in the desert, or was Marian slipping away from him in the sand, or were they on their knees before the altar in the Locksley village church? No, Much was crying because he was worried the antidote wouldn't work, and Robin might not ever awaken. He was a little worried about that himself. But, if he died, at least Marian was with his lads, and she would be alright. Or would she? He had thought she'd be safer living in the forest, but she threw herself into their battles with alarming passion. He should have known she would! What had he expected, that she would sit back and be his girlfriend, letting the others fight for her? He knew her better than that, and admired her for it.

He wouldn't give her an outlaw tag. He couldn't risk it. If she were captured, then everyone would know she was part of his gang, and they would kill her.

But he never gave her anything. Gisbourne, traitor to the King, had given her a horse, a glorious beast! She loved it. She looked so enticing, her hair growing out again, stroking the muzzle of that black steed, and glaring at him with her big blue eyes. What liberties had Gisbourne taken with her, to give her that horse? She had let Robin take some liberties in the past, nothing too improper, but still! Her body responded like magic under his touch, and he was moved and excited beyond words. He didn't think he could wait another year to be married. He'd need to go away, or something.

And they were both older now, as she glared at him and stroked the horse. He was experienced in the ways of the flesh. What had she done with Gisbourne? He'd kill him!

He felt his strength returning, and he sat up. "Where is he?" he asked. He'd find Gisbourne now, and kill him, before he could lay a finger on his darling girl.

"Where's who?" Little John's voice rang out, gruff as ever.

Robin looked about him. "Arthur," he said, sense returning with strength. "Where's the Prince?"


	24. Chapter 24

"Where's Arthur?"

Robin, his mind still foggy and his body shaking, sat on the floor in Prince Arthur's chambers, looking all about him. Marian, Much, and Djaq, wearing tears in their eyes and smiles on their faces, surrounded him on their knees, while Little John stood by the door, guarding it from intruders.

"How do you feel?" Djaq asked.

"Where's Arthur?" he cried again.

"Robin, you've been poisoned. You're alright, now that we've given you the antidote, but you are weak. Do you remember who poisoned you? It appears the poison entered your body from a wound on your throat." Djaq's voice was calm, but urgent. It brought Robin back to his senses.

"Isabella," he answered grimly. "She flew at me with a knife. I didn't realize she'd poisoned me, until I began to feel strange. But we need to find the Prince and Princess!"

He suddenly remembered that Isabella had said he would not find whom he was seeking. She knew something about Arthur being gone. "We have to find Isabella. She knows where they are!"

Much objected strongly. "Robin, surely not! We can't just go ask her, after she tried to kill you! She'll...she'll have us all thrown into the dungeons!"

"The dungeons!" Robin cried. "That must be where Arthur is! Come on, we need to get him out! Now!"

Robin stood, but his legs buckled under him. "John, help me!" he cried.

Little John lifted Robin onto his shoulders. "Robin," he growled, "this I do not like. We get your children, and Tweeks, and go."

"No, John," Robin said. "We rescue Arthur and Eleanor first. I will not rest until they are safe."

"No."

"Do as I say! Trust me!" Robin's eyes were wild.

Much looked anxiously back and forth, from Robin's desperate face to Little John's stern one, trying to make up his mind.

Marian decided it for him. "Follow me," she said. "I remember the way to the dungeons."

...

King John, seated alone at his dinner, scowled at Hugh de Burgh and William de Braose, the two men he had ordered to maim Prince Arthur.

When they had stood face to face with the young Prince, they found they didn't have it in them to put out his eyes or castrate him.

And so, now that they stood face to face with their King, they were trying to dish up excuses for their disobedience.

"Sire, think how your people would hate you! Arthur cannot be known to be blinded, or otherwise maimed. Suspicion would cling to you, Sire! You would be removed from the throne, and your mother put in your place, or Philip of France! No, Your Majesty, it is most unwise."

"But something must be done!" John whined. "I cannot allow that upstart to win the love of my people!" He paused over his dinner. "Bring him here."

"Sire?"

"You heard me! Bring him to me! I will get him to succumb, and grovel before me! He must learn who holds power! He must learn his place!"

"As you command, Your Grace."

...

Prince Arthur was invited to sit across from his uncle, the King, at the dinner table. He was frightened, and refused to eat or drink.

John, however, was deep in his cups. His eyes were bleary with wine, and his speech slurred.

"So, how did you like your change in lodgings?"

"Where's my sister?"

"Oh, don't worry about her. She's being well looked after." He took another swig of wine, then stood and began to weave about the room.

"Eat! I assure you, the food is perfectly safe! You don't think I'd poison you, do you? No, that's my wife's specialty, not mine. I prefer other methods."

"Why are you doing this, Uncle? I pose no threat to you."

"Oh, but you do!" John pointed an unsteady finger at the Prince. "You are as big a deceiver as your father! My brother Geoffrey was ever the sneaky one! It was his plan to remove Daddy from the throne, did you know that? And now, you seek to do the same to me! I will not tolerate it, do you understand?"

"I never knew my father. He died in a joust before I was born."

"Do you think I don't know that? I was there, remember? Whereas you were still in your mother's womb." He scoffed. "Your mother...Locksley's cousin. Let me think...her mother was Locksley's father's sister. That means your great grandparents are Locksley's grandparents, I think. How splendid for you! No wonder the people love you so! You are not only related to their beloved Richard the LionHeart, but also to Robin Hood! On top of that, your name is 'Arthur'! Oh! You are a national treasure!"

"I am also related to you, Uncle, the current King of England."

"You are a threat to my throne."

"I am not."

"You dare to defy me?"

Without warning, the King seized a knife from the table and charged at the terrified Prince. Over and over again, King John plunged the knife into the boy's chest, even after his bloody body lay slumped and motionless on the floor.

John, drenched in blood, dropped the knife. "Stones," he said to Hugh de Burgh and William de Braose. "Tie heavy stones to his body and throw it in the river. No one must know what has happened here today."

...

Months later, people were still questioning the strange disappearance of Prince Arthur and Princess Eleanor.

Robin and his former gang of outlaws were home in Nottinghamshire, following every lead to try to find and rescue the young Prince and Princess.

Marian awoke alone one warm spring night and climbed out of bed. Carefully tiptoeing down the stairs, she joined Robin in his study, as he struggled over the swimming figures in his ledgers.

"Need any help?" she asked.

He looked up and smiled at her wearily. "Probably gave the tanner 92 chickens, when he's got 29, or some such rot. I ought to make it a law they can only have 77, or 88, or 22."

She climbed onto his lap to study his books.

"You're getting heavy, Lady Locksley. Too much fresh cream and butter."

"You have only yourself to blame."

Robin laughed, then sighed happily as he put his hand on her belly. He thrilled when he felt the baby within her kick.

"There it is, Robin," she smiled. "There's your error. May we go back to bed now?"

Once again, he was grateful for her quick mind. "Every month, they have less and less," he worried.

"We'll help them. They're in very good hands, Robin." She drew her hand through his and smiled. "Come," she said, yawning, "we both need some sleep."

He would be leaving with Much at dawn to follow yet another lead concerning the Prince's whereabouts.

Snuggling together under the bedclothes, Robin rested his palm on her belly, and smiled when he felt the baby kick again. "He's wide awake," he murmured into her hair.

"Who?"

"Baby Much."

Robin snickered when he saw Marian whip her head around to face him with indignant eyes.

"Robin, you wouldn't!"

"No...but the look on your face was priceless! I was thinking, however, that we might call him 'Richard.' "

Marian hesitated. She had never shared her husband's blind devotion to the late King. "You're mistaken, you know. For your information, Handsome, he's a girl."

"Good!"

"Good?"

"Of course! You're so good at girls!"

"Go to sleep, dear. No, kiss me first."

He happily complied.

"We will find them, Marian," he vowed again, when the kiss ended.

"I know you will, Robin."

It was good to dream.

THE END

...

**(NOTE: According to historical accounts, John really did bring the prisoner Arthur to him over dinner, and while drunk with wine, murdered him with his own hands. He then had the body tied with stones, and thrown into the river. William de Braose's wife later admitted what happened, and William escaped to France, but John imprisoned William's wife and son, and starved them to death. John kept Princess Eleanor a captive in a castle in the north of England for the rest of his life. She was never allowed to marry, lest she bear children who might supplant his heirs to the throne, and always bore the montra, "The Fair Maid of Brittany").**


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